In The Midst of Adversity
by Maram68
Summary: COMPLETE !!!! Please R + R !!! The Two Towers/Return of the King. Legolas Romance, sure, but ... check it out. (R)
1. Chapter One : ROHAN

Feedback: Please, I need to know if you like it, to keep on writing. So, please, R & R . I have a tough hide, criticism is welcome if it helps me to improve.  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own any of J.R.R. Tolkien's characters or settings, even if I love them as if they were my own. The idea and Cyrene are mine, only mine. Archive: Nowhere yet.  
  
  
  
1 Chapter I  
  
The Fellowship of nine was no more. At Parth Galen, Boromir was killed and Frodo and Sam had parted to bring Sauron's ring to Mordor and throw it into the fires of Mount Doom.  
  
Saruman's Uruk Hai had taken Merry and Pippin prisoner and were on their way back to Isengard, with Aragorn, Gimli and Legolas in pursuit, honoring their vow to the Fellowship, running to the rescue of the two hobbits.  
  
After days of pursuit and trailing behind Saruman's troops, they came across a party of men of Rohan lead by Eomer, third Marshall of the Mark of Rohan.  
  
The riders of Rohan had slain the Uruk Hai, but they hadn't found the hobbits with them.  
  
Eomer provided them with horses and let the travelers continue their journey, against the orders of king Theoden, who prohibited travelers on his domain.  
  
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Grima Wormtongue, main counselor of King Theoden of the Mark of Rohan, strode through the dark passages of Meduseld, the palace of King Theoden in Edoras. If there were anyone walking his way, they would walk away in disgust, not even meeting his malevolent eyes …  
  
The man smiled to himself, the smile looking like an ugly grimace on his pale and haggard face. He was quite satisfied with his actions of the day. Old fool Theoden was like clay in his hands since the heir Theodred had been killed in battle, and today he had convinced the king to arrest his nephew Eomer, for not having brought some travelers to the castle… Grimas power was increasing day by day, and when the time was right he would be the King of the Mark and have Eowyn, Eomer's sister to his mercy… Getting rid of Eomer would be difficult but not impossible, and when Saruman attacked… Rohan would fall into his hands like a ripe apple.  
  
He felt like laughing out loud, but suddenly a hand shot out from the shadow, gripped his throat and crushed him against the wall. He let out a high-pitched squeal, before gasping for breath.  
  
He felt warm breathing next to his ear and the tip of a dagger pricking his throat that was held in a firm grip. Grima didn't move, paralyzed by fear.  
  
He was surprised that anyone would dare to attack him. The crown, the power were so near … so within his reach.  
  
"Are you enjoying your day of power, Master Wormtongue?"  
  
Grima tried to recognize the husky voice at his ear, but could not…. And he couldn't talk back either since the painful hold on his throat almost choked him.  
  
"Don't enjoy this day too much, counselor. Power comes and goes. Just remember, if you should ever raise a finger against Theoden's rightful heirs again, you may not survive the deed to enjoy your gain!"  
  
Grima felt the hand closing and gasped for air. All went black for a few seconds and when he could think again, he was alone in the passageway and the attacker had left.  
  
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The door to Eowyn's chambers opened quietly, and a slender shadow entered.  
  
In front of the fire stood Eowyn, the Lady of Rohan, stunning in her golden beauty. Tears stained her cheeks and anguish marked her features.  
  
"Where were you, my sister? Is all set? Can we see him?" asked the princess of the Mark. The woman who had entered the chamber turned to her and lowered the black hood of her cloak.  
  
"Eowyn mine, have I ever failed you?" she showed the princess the keys she held in her gloved hand.  
  
Eowyn got her dark cloak from the bed and fastened it, securing the hood over her fair hair. " Then let's go, may the shadows of the night assist us."  
  
The other woman smiled, "They will, sister, they will, for the Goddess is with us."  
  
Both women walked silently trough the castle and the only sound that betrayed their presence was the rustling of the cloaks on the stone floor.  
  
After a long walk along the staircases and passages, they reached the dungeon. The guard saw them, and opened the door connecting to the cells. In the largest one was Eowyn's brother Eomer.  
  
The large man sat on a narrow cot, and a candle cast dark shadows on his handsome, worried face. He looked up when he heard his cell being opened and the women letting themselves in.  
  
Eowyn threw herself into her brother's arms; the other woman stood a few of paces behind the embracing couple.  
  
"My beloved sister, don't cry! The king will realize his mistake and all will be well! He said to her, gently caressing her golden hair. He looked up into the face of the other woman. He grinned. " I was waiting for you to storm the dungeon with a battalion or just by yourself, Cyrene!"  
  
Cyrene lowered her hood and grinned back." You knew I understood why you let the guards take you prisoner … what is the plan, my prince? "  
  
Eomer felt like laughing despite his desperate situation. Cyrene could always do that. His sister's companion was very special.  
  
"First tell me. How come that Grima Wormtongue has taken over so much power over my uncle in my absence?"  
  
"When word of Theodred's fall reached us, it was like the King was struck by lightning. He gave up on life and Grima took over. He is also weakening him with his potions and leeches. He won't last long, but he still is the king and Grima is using him. It's like if he has put a spell on Theoden."  
  
Eowyn held her brother's hand. "Short of storming Meduseld and taking the castle and the throne over, there is nothing we can do to stop Wormtongue. Now he has got you where he wanted."  
  
Eomer was thinking. "In the current situation we can't force uncle to leave throne and crown to others"  
  
Cyrene leaned back on the dungeon's wall and watched Eomer intently: "What in the name of the Goddess were you thinking, giving Wormtongue the chance to degrade you like this? Who were those travelers you let go?"  
  
Eomer and Eowyn sat on the cot, Cyrene stood with her hand on the dagger she carried at her belt.  
  
Eomer looked at both women, the people he trusted and cherished most in the world.  
  
"First we met a party of strange orc-creatures, they could move by daylight and were big, strong and fast ... we lost some men in the fight. Then we rode on and came across three travelers, a strange company: a dwarf, an elf and a man. They told us they were after the Orcs, looking for some friends that were taken by the creatures. I talked to the man and gave him some spare horses, because they were on foot, then let them go…"  
  
Eowyn was surprised "Why did you help those strangers, brother? Do you realize you put us all at risk with your decision?"  
  
Eomer saw the doubt in t he eyes of the women…. He was still wondering if he had done the right thing. "He said he was Aragorn, Isildur's Heir, and he carried Ánduril, the sword that was once broken and forged again by the elves. He is going to face Saruman and Sauron."  
  
Eowyn didn't say a word and Cyrene tried to recall all she had heard of Middle Earth's history to understand what Eomer was saying … she knew that Saruman the wizard and the Dark Lord Sauron were at war with Rohan … she had slain enough orcs to know about the enemy. But what was so significant about this Heir of Isildur?  
  
"Well, Eomer, then what do you wish us to do while you await for Theoden to come to his senses?" she asked.  
  
Eomer looked up to Cyrene and said:" Just be on guard and keep Eowyn safe. I will be fine. Aragorn promised to come. He will."  
  
Cyrene smiled to her friend. "You know I will protect her with my life."  
  
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	2. Chapter Two: FRIENDS

Title: In the Midst of Adversity Author: Maram68 Rating: somewhere between PG13 towards R Feedback: maram@zuper.net Please, I need to know if you like it, to keep on writing. So, please, R & R . I have a tough hide, criticism is welcome if it helps me to improve.  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own any of J.R.R. Tolkien's characters or settings, even if I love them as if they were my own. The idea and Cyrene are mine, only mine. Archive: Nowhere yet.  
  
Chapter II: Friends  
  
It was very early in the morning of the third day since Eomer had been taken prisoner as Eowyn and Cyrene were, as usual, having their sword practice at the back of Meduseld Castle.  
  
The guards and servants at the castle were used to see their princess and the stranger who had come from the ocean a year ago practicing with weaponry every day. They cared deeply for the kind Lady of Rohan, and since the dark haired stranger had arrived at Edoras, they were inseparable, and the deep sadness that accompanied Eowyn seemed to have lifted, and both women even laughed while attending their chores inside and outside the castle.  
  
When Cyrene had arrived, Theodred and Theoden had been suspicious at first, but when she showed them the medallion with the white horse, the old King remembered about the pact forged many years ago, and welcomed her to Rohan.  
  
The legend said that Eorl the young himself had been once saved in battle by an Amazon, and had sealed a pact of alliance with the tribe of the warrior. But after many centuries the Amazons had been almost extinguished, and there were rumors that they had moved to an island far from the continent.  
  
So when this woman appeared, bearing the proof and sign of Eorl's pact and only requesting sanctuary in Edoras in exchange for her services, Theoden had welcomed her.  
  
Eowyn parried the swift stroke of Cyrene's sword, but almost lost balance. Cyrene turned quickly and threw Eowyn to the ground, the tip of her sword lying at the princess' throat. "Eowyn, you have to defend your ground. Stand secure on your feet. Let's do it again." She offered her friend a gloved hand to help her up. Eowyn used the impulse given her by the helping hand and shoved Cyrene to the ground, putting her own dagger to the Amazon's throat.  
  
"Is this also a way to do it, my friend?" she said, sitting astride the larger woman.  
  
"You are learning, my sister, even though an orc in battle would never help you up and give you the opportunity I gave you!" She buckled under Eowyn, threw her over her head, and jumped to her feet. In the maneuver, Eowyn's dagger had scratched her cheek, leaving a long shallow cut.  
  
Eowyn let out a small cry." Cyrene, I have hurt you!"  
  
Cyrene laughed. "Don't worry, milady, you know I don't have to take care of my beauty in order to be acceptable for a man. It's just a scratch."  
  
Eowyn ripped a piece of the man's shirt she was wearing and wetting it in the water of a jar they had left nearby, she cleaned the small wound. Both women were clad in men's clothes, since they were the best for weaponry practice, and Cyrene had only since she lived in Edoras got accustomed to wearing women's clothes. She was trying hard to fit into the "mans" society, but never forgetting the essence of her Amazon ways.  
  
Eowyn wondered what her friend was thinking. Cyrene hadn't told her the reason had she left the Amazons, but she saw the deep sorrow and longing in her friend's eyes when she thought of her people. Cyrene had only said that she would serve Rohan as far as she could, but that she might have to move on some time, because her duty towards the Amazons was to bring fame and honor to her people.  
  
Eowyn enjoyed her friend's presence in Edoras immensely, Cyrene being there to support and accompany her. She could even endure all of Grima's intrigues and schemes at the court, since she knew she wasn't alone and she wasn't a burden to Eomer.  
  
Cyrene understood her friend's need to be more than a beautiful maid adorning the court, and taught her the handling of weapons that her race mastered since childhood. In exchange, the Amazon had agreed to learn the ways of what women were supposed to learn and know about in this part of the world. She learned to wear gowns and slippers, some healing techniques, how to cook, and the ways of stewarding the castle. She also learned to act demure and discrete when helping to attend the table at all meals, but Eowyn knew that deep in her heart she forced herself to act like the women "outside" the Amazons-society. Eowyn understood that whatever had happened to make her friend leave her home, Cyrene was never going back.  
  
The Lady of Rohan finished cleaning the cut and smiled to her friend. "Have you ever considered that you might know a man and want to share your life with him?"  
  
Cyrene looked up sharply to Eowyn's face. For a slight moment something like a flash of fear showed clearly in her eyes before with a blink the young Amazon guarded her eyes again. "Eowyn, you know those are not the ways of my people."  
  
" But what if you fell in love and want to be with a man.?"  
  
The Amazon laughed out loud, with the easy laughter of someone who enjoyed life. "My sister, you keep telling me of people that fall in love and share never ending love forever and then die of grief, like in the old ballads and legends. I am sure I prefer to live without those experiences."  
  
The sound of the horn at the entrance of the city being blown interrupted their laughter. Word reached them of visitors at the entrance of Edoras. They threw a knowing look at each other and rushed to the castle. Cyrene said to Eowyn:  
  
"Go change your clothing and prepare to receive the visitors into the King's Hall. I'll go to the dungeon".  
  
The princess of Rohan smiled and said: "I hope Eomer was right about the travelers."  
  
"So do I, my dear sister, so do I."  
  
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	3. Chapter Three: THE TRAVELERS

Title: In the Midst of Adverisity Author: Maram68 Rating: somewhere between PG13 towards R Feedback: maram@zuper.net Please, I need to know if you like it, to keep on writing. So, please, R & R . I have a tough hide, criticism is welcome if it helps me to improve.  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own any of J.R.R. Tolkien's characters or settings, even if I love them as if they were my own. The idea and Cyrene are mine, only mine. *****************************  
  
Chapter III: The Travelers  
  
The guards made way for the rushing woman entering the dungeon. Lady Eowyn's companion was well known among the soldiers, since she had more than once accompanied the troops to battle when Theodred had been at Edoras and Wormtongue didn't have the influence he held now over the king.  
  
Cyrene reached Eomer's cell quickly and Eomer jumped up from the cot. "What is happening, Cyrene? Is Eowyn well?" he asked.  
  
The woman said, "You should know she is worried about you, but well." She looked suspiciously around and then added softly, "Visitors have been announced from the gates. It might be those we are waiting for."  
  
"Then you are more valuable to me in the King's Hall then at my side, my friend" said the Marshall.  
  
"I don't trust Wormtongue, Eomer. I won't leave you unarmed and alone." She turned to the guard and ordered: "Go and find Eothain, he should hurry here!"  
  
The guard nodded and left. "Here, keep my dagger, it's the only weapon I carry on me now. I will leave Eothain with you. He is one of the few we can trust. Then I will go to the King's Hall."  
  
Eothain arrived shortly after, and Eomer gripped Cyrene's forearm in warriorlike greeting: "Be careful, my dear friend. "  
  
"I will be, Milord." She turned to leave and saw her reflection on Eothain's shield.  
  
"Eothain, give me your helmet and your cloak, I will find a spear somewhere."  
  
Eomer watched amused as the woman pulled the helmet on her head, hiding her features, and threw the cloak over her manly garb. "You look like a very young warrior, Cyrene."  
  
"There are no young warriors in times of war, my friend." She said and left the dungeon running for the Golden Hall of King Theodred.  
  
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If the armed guard who joined Lady Eowyn at the entrance of the Hall surprised her, she didn't show it. Neither did the King, who was being supported by her and Grima. Grima looked at the guard and then at Eowyn, who just lifted her chin in defiance.  
  
Grima lowered his eyes and muttered something while he helped Eowyn to lead the old man to his throne.  
  
Once Theodred was seated, Grima sat himself at the stairs below the King and Eowyn stood at the back of the throne. Cyrene stood a few feet away from the lady, half in shadow, holding a spear.  
  
The visitors were lead into the Hall.  
  
Cyrene could very well observe the strangers from where she stood, without attracting any notice to herself.  
  
There were four men, all different from one another. There was an elder man with long flowing white hair and beard, dressed in a gray ragged cloak. He carried a wooden staff and leant heavily into it.  
  
Next to him stood a black haired, rugged looking man in the prime of his life. There was something appealing to the eye in the man but also something mysterious, and Cyrene couldn't figure out what it was.  
  
To the right of the black haired one stood a man who didn't reach further then her own chest, heavily built, with red hair and braided beard. The man was short but impressive and seemed to be weary of his surroundings. For his height, she assumed this was the dwarf.  
  
The last traveler was tall and light from built. He had long blonde hair, lighter then Eowyn's hair, a beautiful boyish face and . pointed ears? Cyrene couldn't believe her own eyes. So this was one of the fabled creatures that lived in the forests of Middle Earth! No doubt about it, this must be an elf.  
  
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While Cyrene walked swiftly to the dungeon, sent by King Theoden to free Eomer, she recalled the events from moments earlier in the Golden Hall.  
  
Though she hadn't recognized Gandalf the Wizard, she had heard enough about him to know he was powerful and devoted to the good of the creatures of Middle Earth. It was Gandalf himself who had attacked Grima with his magic and then freed King Theoden from the spell cast upon him and brought him out into the daylight; something the old man hadn't done for many weeks. Eowyn was concerned for the King's health, but it seemed, as by the sheer power of sunlight shining on him and the evil magic cast away, that Theoden was reborn, beholding his kingdom from the castle's walls. His stance straightened, his eyes shone. The great King of the Mark of Rohan was back, and he wished his nephew at his side to fight the approaching enemy.  
  
Cyrene opened the cell herself. Eomer was elated to see her end his imprisonment. "Did the king send you? What happened? What happened to the Wormtongue? Is all well?"  
  
"The travelers brought good winds into Meduseld. The King wishes to see you" On the way up the longwinded stairs of the castle, she told him what had happened at the encounter of the travelers with the King.  
  
When they stepped in front of Theoden, Eomer knelt before the King. He was holding the sword that had been given back to him once he was set free, never taking his eyes of Theoden, who could see courage and loyalty in his nephew's eyes. Eomer offered him his sword as a sign of loyalty, something that Theoden really didn't need.  
  
"Rise, my sister's son. You are the heir to the crown of Rohan. And to keep Rohan away from darkness we must go into battle. "  
  
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By the time Eomer and Theoden had instructed the calling of the army, it was late and the travelers were honored guests for dinner.  
  
Eowyn and Cyrene served the king's table. Cyrene noticed the way that Eowyn looked at Aragorn. And also noticed that Aragorn treated Eowyn kindly, but there was no attraction in his eyes when he looked at her golden beauty. Eowyn looked at him as if he were the only man in the room.  
  
What Cyrene didn't notice, was the way the elf looked at her. She was pretty in her violet gown, a thin silver girdle on her waist. Her black tresses were held back with silver ribbons, loosely braided. But Legolas wasn't looking at her face or her body, but at the way she moved. She wasn't awkward in the way she helped the table, but she moved as if she wasn't used to the chores. Her movements were fluid and elastic, almost like a cat, but she strode with wider steps then women usually did, and even if she was careful handling the dishes and serving the wine, she somehow didn't belong there.  
  
Eomer noticed the elf's attention on Cyrene and felt a pang of jealousy. Eomer had thankfully acknowledged Cyrene's friendship with his sister, and cherished her as a friend and comrade in arms. He had seen her in battle and knew her to be more than equal to any other warrior he knew. Now, watching another man (or elf) pay attention to his friend, he saw her in another light. He noticed her lithe body, which was well trained in the arts of war and the fine hands that filled his goblet. He looked up to her face, the shiny amber- colored eyes he knew so well, the full mouth with lips lightly tilted upwards at their ends, as she was almost always smiling or laughing. It was like seeing a well-known painting again with new eyes.  
  
Cyrene smiled at Eomer and wondered at the odd look in her friend's eyes. She was going to talk to him after dinner anyway.  
  
Legolas noticed the Marshall's reaction to have found him looking at the lady who attended the table. Maybe there was some kind of relationship between them. He turned his attention to dinner and talked to Gimli. But he could have sworn there was something strange about the dark haired woman who served his wine.  
  
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	4. Chapter Four: EOMER

Title: In the Midst of Adversity Author: Maram68 Rating: PG 13 still, R to come  
  
Feedback: maram@zuper.net. Please, I need to know if you like it, to keep on writing. So, please, R & R . I have a tough hide, criticism is welcome if it helps me to improve. Disclaimer: I do not own any of J.R.R. Tolkien's characters or settings, even if I love them as if they were my own. The idea and Cyrene are mine, only mine.  
  
Chapter IV.: Eomer  
  
Cyrene waited for Eomer outside the King's Hall after the guests had been lead to their chambers. Eomer was surprised to find her there, especially after the thoughts that had come over him at dinner, but he acknowledged her with a bright smile.  
  
"Eomer, I don't need your permission, but I would like to have your acquiescence. I will ride with the army tomorrow. "  
  
The Marshall's eyes showed his surprise. "I thought you would stay with Eowyn, Cyrene"  
  
She looked him straight in the eye. "You know of my vow of bringing fame and honor to my people. I have to go into battle to accomplish that. And you have no better archer among your people. You need me."  
  
For a moment Eomer thought of denying it and begging her to stay behind. But for all he knew about her and the respect the Amazon had earned in Rohan, he couldn't deny her request. "I will be honored to have you fighting at my side, my dear friend. "  
  
"I thank you Eomer, you have been a true friend for me. I will cherish your and Eowyn's friendship and love for all my life." She gripped his forearm in greeting but Eomer pulled her close and embraced her. Cyrene felt for the first time in her life the close contact of a man's body and panicked. This was very different of holding Eowyn and consoling her about Theodred's death. She wriggled and fought against Eomer's touch.  
  
"Eomer let me go!" She said harshly, and as he didn't release her immediately, she pushed hard against his chest. "Eomer, what are you doing?"  
  
Eomer didn't hear her at first, but reveled in the feeling of her body against his and the smell of jasmine in her hair. He felt her pushing him away and reacted, letting her go.  
  
"Excuse me, I didn't mean to intrude. Milord, Milady," the soft voice of another person in the passage said.  
  
Both turned to see the elf standing in the passage.  
  
Cyrene took the opportunity to free herself of Eomer's arms, turn and walk away.  
  
Eomer saw her leave and turned to Legolas. "May I help you, Master Elf?"  
  
Legolas saw in the eyes of the man no animosity but regret. He just nodded and inquired if there was perhaps a garden on the castle grounds. Eomer showed him the way to the garden and both men parted, each one immersed in his own thoughts.  
  
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Cyrene walked into Eowyn's chambers, looking for her. Eowyn stood at the tall window, her eyes lost on the horizon.  
  
"You will keep the city and their people safe, my sister. I am very proud that the king decided to leave you in charge of Edoras and it's people" she said.  
  
Eowyn didn't answer. She still stood looking at some point in the distance.  
  
"You are going with them, aren't you Cyrene?" she asked after a while.  
  
Her companion, who stood patiently in the room, waiting for Eowyn to speak to her, said simply "Yes."  
  
Then the Lady of Rohan turned toward her best friend and hugged her fiercely. "Come back, bring Eomer back and try to protect the King! Can you promise this to me?"  
  
Cyrene smiled sadly: "My dear sister, I'll do whatever the goddess allows me to do and keep the promise. Your brother and uncle and I will come back from this battle to Edoras and to you."  
  
She hugged the other woman, remembering Eomer's behavior earlier. Cyrene decided to talk to Eowyn about what she had observed at dinner.  
  
"Eowyn, are you attracted to Aragorn?"  
  
"Was I that easy to read"? Said the blond beauty smiling sadly.  
  
"To me, you were"  
  
Eowyn turned again to the window, her eyes lost dreamily in the distance as she continued. "He looks as if he has so much power but also a great responsibility and sorrow. There is experience and knowledge, but also hope and resignation. He is so courageous but also so humble. I have never known anybody like him"  
  
Cyrene sighed. She knew little about men, but she instinctively knew what Eowyn was talking about.  
  
The Lady of Rohan turned to the window again. "Aragorn feels to me like he is aburning candle drawing me like a moth to its light, casting a spell... I feel like I am thirsty and he is the sweetest water available, the only one that can quench my thirst. If he touched me, I would go up in flames"  
  
Cyrene reflected on the words of her friend. "But I don't know if he feels the same about you my sister . is this what being in love feels like?"  
  
Eowyn turned to her and smiled sadly. "Yes I think this is what it feels like, you feel overwhelming joy and deep sorrow, if the other one doesn't feel like you. You almost believe you couldn't live another day if the one you love doesn't share the next breath you take. And deep in my heart, I know Isildur's Heir has already given his heart away."  
  
Cyrene put her arm around Eowyn's shoulder. "I wish I could take the sorrow you are feeling now, my friend, and also wish the Goddess never lets me feel the same. If you need me, I will always be there for you"  
  
Eowyn nodded. She knew there was no better friend to her than Cyrene, but they would have to part. She told her, "May I help you prepare for the fight, sister?"  
  
Cyrene put her arm around Eowyn's shoulders and said, "Of course. I feel honored to call you my friend and sister."  
  
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	5. Chapter Five: AMONG ARCHERS

Title: In the Midst of Adversity Author: Maram68 Rating: PG 13 still, R to come  
  
Feedback: maram@zuper.net. Please, I need to know if you like it, to keep on writing. So, please, R & R . I have a tough hide, criticism is welcome if it helps me to improve. Disclaimer: I do not own any of J.R.R. Tolkien's characters or settings, even if I love them as if they were my own. The idea and Cyrene are mine, only mine. ****************************** Thank's for all the feedback so far .... those who have taken some time to review, YOU ROCK!!!  
  
Chapter V: Among archers  
  
It was at the break of dawn that the army of Riders of Rohan, the Rohirrim, stood ready to begin the journey at the entrance of the castle of Meduseld.  
  
Eomer assisted Theoden to get on his horse, and swung himself up on his mount. Next to him Aragorn mounted and Legolas sprang on the horse given to him, helping Gimli up to ride with him.  
  
Further back, where the captains of Rohan were also mounting up, Eowyn hugged her friend Cyrene, before she got up on her mare.  
  
Eowyn wore a glittering silver chain mail, her golden hair flying in the wind. She resembled a warrior goddess from the ancient legends.  
  
The Amazon in her warrior garb blended in with the soldiers around her. Her face was covered by the nosepiece of the light helmet all amazons wore; she wore a chain mail that reached to her elbows and thighs. Beneath it she wore deerskin leggings and a short tunic, wrist guards that went to her elbows and high boots to her knees. On her back she wore her quiver and her bow. Her short sword was fastened by her quiver. At her waist was her dagger and there also dangled the labryss, the short double bladed battle-axe. On her saddle was the pelta, the crescent-moon shaped shield of her people.  
  
Cyrene hugged her friend fiercely, turned back and swung herself on the saddle.  
  
Eomer saw his sister part from the other woman and walk up the steps of the castle. There she stood, awaiting the departure of the Rohirrim.  
  
Theoden gave the sign, and the army moved on. Eowyn stood on the terrace, looking at the army until they disappeared from her sight.  
  
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After a perilous journey through the enemy lines, the Riders of Rohan lead by Theoden and Eomer reached the fortress at Helms Deep. A powerful army of Uruk Hai soon surrounded them.  
  
Aragorn held council with Eomer and the king. "We are few compared to the hordes of Saruman"  
  
Theoden looked from his nephew's whose face was shadowed by doubt and worry and to the serene and composed features of Arathorn's son.  
  
"We will wait for daylight, then we fight"  
  
Once the orders were issued to the captains, Aragorn approached Legolas and Gimli, and described the strategy.  
  
"We are going to wait for sunrise, then we are posting archers on the battlements and the infantry is charging. We are going to attack on three fronts, hoping to break the mass of orcs. For our luck, there aren't all Uruk-Hai."  
  
"But they outnumber us four to one, Aragorn. It is foolish to give battle under these circumstances," argued Gimli.  
  
"We have to protect the women and children retreating to the caves," said Aragorn. "We are just giving them time and a chance of survival."  
  
Gimli nodded and went silent.  
  
Legolas counted the arrows in his quiver. "How many other archers are going up there?" he asked Aragorn.  
  
"Eomer promised fifty archers on all the length of the wall. And a big supply on arrows."  
  
Just as he finished speaking, fifty archers led by their captain approached them, carrying some baskets with arrows.  
  
The captain nodded to Aragorn and instructed the archers to their positions on the battlements, then turned to Legolas. "Any position you prefer, Master Elf?"  
  
Legolas noticed something strange about the voice of the warrior standing in front of him, but couldn't recognize what it was. "I'll take the center position, captain. Where will you post yourself?"  
  
"Also in the middle, Master Elf. And you Master Dwarf?"  
  
Gimli was intently observing the lean warrior talking to them. Tall and light of frame, this captain of the archers seemed very young. "I will stay on the battlements with Master Legolas, and then go into battle."  
  
Cyrene smiled broadly beneath her helmet and even if Gimli, Legolas and Aragorn couldn't see her smile, they could almost hear it: "We will get into battle soon enough. Master Dwarf. May the Gods be with us this day!". After this, she turned and left, going up to her position on the fortress' wall.  
  
It was not far from dawn when all archers had assumed their positions, and Cyrene walked to her place at the center of the battlements, a couple of feet away from where Legolas was leaning against the stone wall and Gimli sat on the ground, sharpening his already razor sharp axe.  
  
She walked over to them and set close to Legolas a basket with arrows.  
  
"I hope these arrows hit their targets and give us some advantage against this formidable enemy," she said.  
  
An archer close to them walked over to Cyrene and handed her a flask; she nodded, drank a bit and then offered the flask over to the elf and the dwarf. It seemed as if the other archer would object, but Cyrene just hissed something and he went away. Legolas received the flask, and as he took it, his fingers lightly touched Cyrene's fingers. Both looked up at each other, as a feeling like tingling went through their hands from the spot where they had touched. The elf's keen eyes saw the amazed look in the amber eyes behind the helmet's nosepiece, but he still didn't recognize Cyrene. She had almost let the flask fall . as if it had burned her hand. Legolas held it and nodded to Cyrene, in gratitude. He also drank some of the sweet wine with spices and passed it to Gimli. The dwarf drank a bit and gave the flask back to Cyrene.  
  
"Thank you, captain. You seem to be more generous towards strangers than your fellow Rohirrim," said the dwarf.  
  
Cyrene received the flask and put it down, and then she leaned on her bow and looked into the distance. "The Rohirrim are good and brave men. They are wary of what they don't know. Most men are"  
  
She didn't say anymore, but for a moment, Gimli and Legolas felt the longing and sorrow that was laced in the deep voice of the one they thought a young man in the armor of a warrior.  
  
************************************************** 


	6. Chapter Six: HELM'S DEEP

Title: In the Midst of Adversity Author: Maram68 Rating: PG 13 still, R to come  
  
Feedback: maram@zuper.net. Please, I need to know if you like it, to keep on writing. So, please, R & R . I have a tough hide, criticism is welcome if it helps me to improve. Disclaimer: I do not own any of J.R.R. Tolkien's characters or settings, even if I love them as if they were my own. The idea and Cyrene are mine, only mine. ****************************** Chapter VI: Helm's Deep  
  
Dawn came gray and dark, charged with the heavy clouds of a thunderstorm. Saruman's army stood its ground, in front of the fewer rows of soldiers of the Mark.  
  
Theoden stood on the battlements of the fortress, overlooking the battlefield Eomer and Aragorn were in the field, leading the two wings of Rohirrim infantry.  
  
Gandalf had gone away by midnight, speaking of finding allies for the battle. But the fight was about to start and Gandalf wasn't there.  
  
Eomer looked up to the walls of the fortress. He saw Theoden standing on the highest vantage point. And then he saw Cyrene, walking through the archers, speaking to them, and he almost could hear her, encouraging them, lifting their spirits, smiling brightly at those she knew and patting their shoulders.  
  
He smiled briefly himself, wishing she would be at his side like so many times before. But she was right when she told him that they needed her archery skills. She had no equal among the soldiers of Rohan. The skill with the bow of the Amazons was legendary, and Cyrene excelled at it. The Amazon and the elf on the walls of the Hornburg were definitely an asset for the battle.  
  
The thought of Cyrene fighting at the elf's side was bitter to him. He had seen the elf looking at her at the dinner in Edoras, and since Eomer himself had seen her as the female she was, instead of the comrade in arms and friend, he couldn't get the woman out of his mind. His last thought before turning his attention to Aragorn and the battle was a silent prayer for both to survive the day.  
  
Legolas was already posted and ready with his bow when Cyrene returned from checking the other archers. She threw her cloak off, and flexed her arms. Legolas saw the slender arms clad in chain mail and leather and wondered how this young warrior, for there was no doubt about the battle skill of the captain, was a leader of rank at such an early age. And he also recalled the strange feeling that had coursed through him as he had touched the archer's hand. It was like a current flowing through the tiny patches of skin that had been in contact. Legolas felt uncomfortable; he had felt something similar many years ago, which made the feeling familiar but disconcerting, because the last time he had felt it, it had been anticipation, and then it had been the first time he had made love.  
  
Cyrene felt the elf looking at her and tried to ignore him. She had to concentrate on the fight ahead of them. She still hadn't understood why she had felt so strange when the elf's hand had grazed her own. As an Amazon, she was very wary of men and had earned her place and respect among the soldiers due to her sympathy and prowess in fighting. The experience from of Eomer's embrace the night before had confused her, and now the sensations produced by the elf's brief touch were still branding her senses. She could feel his presence, a couple of feet away, radiating awareness and tension. She shook her head, and rubbed her neck. She saw movement on the field and picked up an arrow, tensing it on her bow. The fight would soon begin.  
  
The army of orcs and Uruk Hai was screaming, thumping on the ground and hitting their shields. The Rohirrim stood still, watching the hellish spawns in front of them, letting the rain soak them, but mindful of the fight before them. Theoden held his sword up high and gave the signal for attack. Aragorn and Eomer stormed into the ranks of Orcs, slaying their way through the mass of creatures. On the walls of the fortress Cyrene gave the signal and the rain of arrows on the attacking army began. Out of the corner of his eye, Legolas saw that even though the archer's captain didn't have his amazing speed, all the shots were accurate and were taking their toll on the approaching enemies. But there were so many of them and so few soldiers of Rohan, that he had no doubt about the outcome of the battle. His friends, the Rohirrim, the women and children hiding in the caves of Helm's Deep, and the intriguing brave young captain to his left weren't going to survive the day.  
  
Cyrene kept her mind focused on the ugly creatures trying to make their way to the Hornburg. Everyone she took in her aim went down. But they were running out of arrows, and the hordes approaching seemed endless. She noticed that Legolas shot two arrows at once and both hit their targets, and he kept shooting with amazing speed. Her admiration for the elf grew.  
  
On the field, Eomer and Aragorn mowed through the bodies of the orcs and Uruk Hai mercilessly. Both were covered in the blood of the slain enemies and waded through the corpses followed by the brave men of Rohan. Around them the battle cries of the Orcs and the screaming of the wounded men and orc were deafening. The falling rain was tinted red when it hit the ground, flowing like bloody rivers on the mud. Both armies were sinking in mud, Saruman's hordes intent on reaching the fortress, the Rohirrim fighting them back, in an almost hopeless effort to defend the Hornburg.  
  
As the arrows were used up, Cyrene retrieved her shield off the ground, and plucked the battle-axe from her waist. She swung it with a flick of her wrist and yelled to the archers to join her as she charged down the stairs to the gate and out on the field. The archers followed her, and so did Gimli and Legolas, who pulled his two short swords from his back and stormed into the front line of the orcs overflowing Eomer's flank.  
  
As soon as the archer's company reached the field, they felt the desperation of fighting against a sea of enemies, which threatened to drown their weak defenses in their assault. But as they saw the elf, the dwarf and the Amazon charge into the orcs as one, the soldiers of Rohan stormed, with a war cry in their voices, swearing to keep the attackers at bay or die trying.  
  
Gimli, Legolas and Cyrene almost instantly lost sight of each other, even though Legolas hair stood out from the dark mass of orcs like a beacon.  
  
Cyrene felt the elation of the battle frenzy, and started cutting down orcs to both sides of her way, trying to kill as many of them as possible. When her axe got stuck in the armor of an Uruk Hai, she was defenseless for a second, and an orc hit her helmet with a maze. Dazzled for a moment, she staggered but caught herself again and hit him with her shield while reaching for the short sword fastened at her back. She heard metal clashing at her back, as another attacker tried to stab her and Gimli crushed him with his axe. She nodded to the dwarf and drew her sword to keep on fighting. At some point, she felt something hit her back and rapidly turned to hit the attacker, only to find herself back to back with Legolas. He grinned grimly at her and both kept on fighting, the corpses of orcs strewn around them.  
  
It was then that Gimli cried out and they saw that the enemy had reached the walls and was tearing a breach into the side of the fortress.  
  
With a desperate scream, Cyrene turned and ran towards the fortress, yelling orders to the surviving archers to join her, the elf and the dwarf running by her side.  
  
Cyrene could feel her heart pounding in her chest, and her mouth going dry, as she ran as fast as her legs carried her to the breach in the wall of the Hornburg, where the orcs were entering like ants.  
  
She tripped, but felt the strong hand of the elf pulling her up as he ran past her. She shook her head, to clear her sight that was blurred for an instant. The blow to her head was taking its toll.  
  
The elf hadn't released her arm, and was pulling her with him toward the fortress. He seemed to notice she wasn't well and slowed down his pace, but she shook her head again and kept on running. She gathered her wits and focused on the task ahead, storming on the orcs and cutting through them as if they were wheat on the field.  
  
Legolas saw the captain stumble and helped the comrade in arms up, while returning to the Hornburg. He had seen how an orc had given an awful blow to the head of the young man, but the captain had stood his ground and continued fighting. It seemed that the effort of running to the walls was taking all from the archer, but the young man had gathered himself and stormed into fight.  
  
Meanwhile, even if her swordstrokes weren't as accurate and deadly as before, Cyrene was still slaying orcs, but letting her defenses down. Legolas fought at her side, admiring her courage and spunk, doing his best efforts to defend her from the enemy's attacks.  
  
Eomer had almost lost sight of Aragorn in the battlefield, but one look around was enough to recognize that the battle was going to be lost to the army of darkness. He had also lost sight of Cyrene and the elf, and Eomer saw the breach in the walls of the fortress. He prayed to the Gods that the orcs would never get to the women and children hiding in the caves.  
  
It was in that moment that the sound of a horn echoed through the valley of Helms Deep. The answer of a hundred horns came back, as the first rays of sunlight broke through the dark sky, flooding the hills around the Hornburg. On the hills stood trees, strange trees that hadn't been there before, reaching tall to the sky and hovering darkness beneath their branches.  
  
Suddenly, on the top of the hill across the fortress appeared a rider, dressed in white, shining brightly in the light of the rising sun. The horns were blown again, as a thousand soldiers marched behind the white rider, lead by a tall warrior with a blood-red shield. The Rohirrim yelled in joy: Gandalf the white and the army of Erkenbrand had come to the rescue, setting upon their sole presence the army of Saruman on the run.  
  
************************************************************** 


	7. Chapter Seven: RECOGNITION

Title: In the Midst of Adversity Author: Maram68 Rating: PG 13 still, R to come  
  
Feedback: maram@zuper.net. Please, I need to know if you like it, to keep on writing. So, please, R & R . I have a tough hide, criticism is welcome if it helps me to improve. Disclaimer: I do not own any of J.R.R. Tolkien's characters or settings, even if I love them as if they were my own. The idea and Cyrene are mine, only mine. ******************************  
  
A MILLION THANKS AND ALL MY LOVE TO MY AMAZING BETA AND SUPPORTIVE NUT-TWIN DEBORA (DEB, YOU ABSOLUTELY ROCK!!!!) AND MORE LOVE TO MY MATE UNA, FOR BOUNCING, SUPPORTING AND HAVING TONS OF PATIENCE WITH YOURS TRULY. (For you, dear readers to understand the effort this two great people invested, imagine an insecure, pathetically hysteric, first-timer, non-English-native writer sitting in your hair every day for hours!!! That's me!!!)  
  
Chapter VII.: Recognition  
  
Legolas tried to find his friends on the field. He saw Aragorn on his horse, next to Eomer and Theoden. Gandalf and Erkenbrand were riding in pursuit of the fleeing orcs and Uruk Hai, hunting them inside the trees.  
  
As he turned to look for Gimli, he was gone, and he caught a glimpse of the young warrior leaning heavily on the dwarf, both entering the tower of the Hornburg.  
  
He took long strides toward the tower, and stopped cold in his tracks as he saw that the room was filled with wounded soldiers, the smell of blood and death thick in the air.  
  
Gimli had led the archer's captain to a corner, where the soldier sat down on a sack of grain. The dwarf was helping the young man to take his helmet off, which had been dented by the maze-blow received in the battle. Legolas walked over to them, but stopped in mid-stride again. Gimli had managed to take the helmet off, and behind a mass of tangled black hair and sporting a huge bruise to the side of her face, there sat the woman he had been watching at the last dinner in Edoras.  
  
Cyrene smiled thankfully at the dwarf, grimacing a bit because the whole left side of her face hurt from just smiling. Gimli bowed to her and then took her forearm in warrior greeting. "You were a formidable sister in arms, Amazon!"  
  
She smiled again, in spite of the pain. "I can say no less about you, Master Dwarf. How did you recognize me for what I am?"  
  
Gimli sat next to her. "We dwarfs may not be prone to singing and tale- telling like the elves are, mistress, but the legends and tales of the amazons are always some of the favorites to be told. I knew the moment I saw the axe and the shield you belong to the daughters of the moon."  
  
Legolas had approached them, silently, hearing every word exchanged by them. By the Valar, this was an Amazon! That would explain the prowess with the weapons and fierce fighting . he had also heard the tales of the amazons, and thought them to be fantasies of the elders. And by all his keen senses, he hadn't recognized the archer captain as a woman. He didn't know if he should feel upset or relieved, because as his eyes took in the woman sitting before him, seeing her as the female she was, he recalled the sensation that had coursed through them as their fingers had touched. He had never before felt something like that for a mortal woman. Cyrene looked up from the dwarf to find the elf staring silently at her. For the very first time in her life, she blushed.  
  
Gimli looked from Legolas to Cyrene and back, and smiled to himself. "Master Legolas, I have forty two orcs to my count. How many have you?"  
  
The elf tore his eyes from Cyrene, and rubbed his neck. "Forty one, Master Gimli. But I concede the victory with joy to you, since I am very relieved to see you well, as well as the captain here."  
  
Cyrene offered her hand to Legolas in greeting. "Master Legolas, my name is Cyrene, of the Amazons"  
  
Legolas also reached out to hold her forearm. "I am Legolas of Mirkwood, Mistress Cyrene". As he gripped gently her forearm, they both felt the tingling again, and let each Other's arm fall quickly.  
  
"If you excuse me, I would like to see some of the archers who where under my command and might be injured" said Cyrene, standing up. But she didn't get far. After the adrenaline from the fight had diminished, the full extent of the injury on her head affected her.  
  
Her head was spinning, and she felt nausea rising up her throat. Legolas supported her, swept her in his arms and carried her out of the room. Outside, he knelt next to her and held her head while she retched. Gimli came outside behind them, carrying a wet cloth and some water.  
  
When Cyrene finished retching, Gimli gave her some water to rinse her mouth and washed her face with the cloth, being careful not to apply pressure on the hurt side of her face, that was already turning black and blue.  
  
Cyrene leant back into Legolas. She didn't care if he touched her or not. She just had to get a grip on herself . and she was so tired.  
  
"You are very kind, my friends . I just need to lay down ."  
  
Legolas exchanged a knowing look with Gimli. "I am very sorry, Mistress Cyrene, but if we let you sleep now, you might never wake up. With head injuries, you shouldn't sleep," said Legolas, fighting the urge to smooth her tangled hair away from the pale face.  
  
Gimli nodded. "We will take care of you, mistress, but you have to fight the sleep, at least for a couple of hours. We will help you stay awake."  
  
Legolas didn't let go of Cyrene, and carried her to the campsite Gimli had chosen in a far corner of the fortress. The Rohirrim still regarded them with mistrust and he realized that Cyrene was as much a stranger to the men of Rohan as they were. .............. Gimli decided to keep Cyrene awake by talking to her and making her talk.  
  
Legolas had enveloped Cyrene in his cloak from Lothlorien, and sat her down leaning on a grain sack near the fire Gimli had provided. She felt uncomfortable, having been held and carried by him. The tall, gentle elf inspired sensations and thoughts in her mind and body she had never felt before. She avoided his eyes and focused on the dwarf.  
  
Gimli sat next to her, and began telling her about the tales he had heard about the amazons.  
  
"Your people were among the first to handle iron and horses, the stories said. They also said you were fierce and formidable in battle. We could see that today ourselves."  
  
Cyrene was flattered by the admiration shining in the dwarf's eyes. "I also heard tales of dwarves, men and elves at our campfires and our evening gatherings. Even though we tried as less contact to the outer world as possible after we had to leave our country to men, I must confess I never dreamt of such amazing people being real. "  
  
A soldier approached them. He seemed shy, but stepped into the light of the fire, addressing Cyrene. "Mistress, I was looking for you."  
  
Cyrene looked into the face of the archer. "Dumetar, you are well! It pleases me to see you well . How many men did we loose? Are many injured?" She smiled encouragingly to Dumetar, even though it clearly hurt, the huge bruise on her face looking hideous in the light of day.  
  
"We are all well, except for minor injuries. We found your shield and axe, Mistress ... We thought the worst! Milord Eomer is looking for you." And having said this, Dumetar laid shield and axe to Cyrene's feet.  
  
"Be so kind and tell the Marshall I am well, but cannot come to see him right now. Thank you for your worries, my friend." And she sat up, reaching for the archer's hand. She fought the dizziness that came over her, as she gripped the man's forearm, and waited until he was gone to let herself fall heavily into the soft cocoon of Legolas' cloak. She was very pale, and swallowed hard to fight the nausea.  
  
Gimli wiped again gently her brow with the wet cloth, and Legolas gave her a cup of fresh water, which she drank very slowly.  
  
"You tend to overexert yourself, Mistress Cyrene, you are wounded." Said Legolas softly.  
  
"I am a grown woman, Master Elf. I thank you for your care but I won't take reprimands as if I were a naughty child." After those words had left her mouth, Cyrene regretted being harsh to the gentle being. This wasn't how she usually treated people around her. She felt confused and her head throbbing grew worse. She closed her eyes and swallowed again, before apologizing. "Forgive me, Master Legolas. I didn't intend to be unthankful towards my comrades in arms. I don't do my upbringing and people any justice. "  
  
Legolas was upset. She could be friendly to everybody and even pushed herself beyond her own physical well being to comfort those around her. But she snapped at him and his concern for her. She must really dislike him. He felt almost insulted at her behavior. And at the same time, he felt drawn to this strange female. It must be the aftermath of the battle; he really must be out of his mind.  
  
Gimli witnessed the exchange between both and could hardly hide his amusement. It would take an Amazon to make an elf uncomfortable and uneasy, while the elf provoked in the young woman emotions she clearly couldn't handle. His wry sense of humor soared about the infinite possibilities for these two beings to relate to another. This was going to be very entertaining.  
  
"Tell me, Mistress Cyrene, where does your people live now?" the dwarf asked, to keep on the conversation interrupted by the Rohirrim archer.  
  
"The Amazons live on an island, a secret island protected by riffs and mist. My people just want to preserve its way of life, away from mankind and the outside world. It is a beautiful island with olive-bushes and low hills, the sand on the beaches is almost white, the ocean is the deepest blue you could imagine... you may sit in front of the ocean and marvel at it's size and beauty, life providing depths that may also tale your own life if you dare it's dangers ... "  
  
Cyrene's eyes were lost in the distance, as if she was seeing everything before her. She felt the longing for her home and the sorrow of knowing that she didn't belong anywhere else but there, deep in her heart. But she had to fulfill her duty, and she had to live with the knowledge that she would never again set foot on Artemis Island. Never.  
  
One tear slid from her wide-open eyes as she came back to reality. Neither Legolas nor Gimli said anything.  
  
"Mistress Cyrene, are there no men on your island?" asked Legolas, trying to change Cyrene's thoughts' path. The hurt he had heard and seen in her voice and eyes were enough to tell him that she missed her people and felt herself as a stranger on Middle Earth.  
  
Cyrene looked to the elf. She knew where the question was leading, as she had answered that question many times before to the few that had actually dared to ask it. She knew about the horrendous tales told among men about Amazons. She sighed: "No, Master Legolas, there are no men living among the Amazons. Our law forbids it." She didn't explain further, she wanted to see if the elf dared to ask what he wanted to know.  
  
Since the elf didn't dare, Gimli asked. "Then how do you err.well . keep your race alive?"  
  
"When our sisters reach their womanhood, they are sent to the outside world to mate. They might go to the outside world as often as they wish."  
  
"What happens to the male children born from this ... "mating"?" Legolas knew that men didn't give to the physical bonding the importance elves did, but the sole word "mating" brought the sexual act to the level of animal reproduction. He felt repulsed, but that feeling didn't tamper his attraction to Cyrene. The contradiction made him feel even more upset with himself.  
  
"Male children are brought up in the outside world.... There is a village where...." started the Amazon, but was interrupted by the outraged elf: "So those children are punished to grow up in exile only because they are male?"  
  
Cyrene was angry. Here she was, trying to explain to this creature the rules of the amazons and he dared to judge them without listening? This was too much to bear! "If the males turn out to be as stubborn and obnoxious as you, Master Legolas, then it's for the best that they don't bother the rest of the population on the island!" She had sat up and was glaring furiously at Legolas.  
  
Gimli felt almost like laughing. Where was the reserved, quiet Legolas he had known from their journey out from Rivendell? And what did happen to the friendly and soft- spoken Amazon they had met the night before?  
  
The elf fought the urge to grab the woman and pull her to him. Instead he sneered, "So the amazons just use the males for reproduction and pleasure, showing no respect what so ever for their wishes or feelings and then dispose of them?"  
  
Cyrene's eyes were slits flashing in anger, "Men just use women the same way, so why wouldn't we? And how does the high and mighty elf dare to judge others? For very long before meeting you I thought that elves, especially male elves were creatures made up in tales to scare little babies!"  
  
At this point Gimli knew the discussion might get out of control, so he just added, joking, "Which babies? Male or female?"  
  
For a moment, amber and blue eyes were locked in silent battle, and Cyrene gave in to the relief of laughing. Slowly, she started to giggle and as the laughter reached her eyes, Legolas felt like laughing too. It was silly, but with the laughter that bubbled in the three friends at the campfire, tension seemed to float away into the sunlight streaming into the fortress bay. ********************************************** 


	8. Chapter Eight: BELONGING

Title: In the Midst of Adversity Author: Maram68 Rating: PG 13 still, R to come  
  
Feedback: maram@zuper.net. Please, I need to know if you like it, to keep on writing. So, please, R & R . I have a tough hide, criticism is welcome if it helps me to improve. Disclaimer: I do not own any of J.R.R. Tolkien's characters or settings, even if I love them as if they were my own. The idea and Cyrene are mine, only mine. ******************************  
  
A MILLION THANKS AND ALL MY LOVE TO MY AMAZING BETA AND SUPPORTIVE NUT-TWIN DEBORA (DEB, YOU ABSOLUTELY ROCK!!!!) AND MORE LOVE TO MY MATE UNA, FOR BOUNCING, SUPPORTING AND HAVING TONS OF PATIENCE WITH YOURS TRULY. (For you, dear readers to understand the effort this two great people invested, imagine an insecure, pathetically hysteric, first-timer, non-English-native writer sitting in your hair every day for hours!!! That's me!!!)  
  
Chapter VIII : Belonging  
  
It was already afternoon, when Gimli deemed it safe enough to let Cyrene sleep. Through the morning most of the archers who had fought beside them had walked to the place where they were camped to pay their respects to Cyrene. She had talked to each and every one of them, calling them by their name and smiling and making the effort to make them feel special.  
  
But the entire sitting up and smiling and pretending to be well had taken its toll on the Amazon. As she fell asleep leaning on a grain sack and still covered by Legolas' cloak, the dwarf walked over to her and softly pulled her down, until she was lying more comfortably on the floor.  
  
She had been sleeping for a short while, when a group of soldiers approached them, walking in the middle of them was Eomer, heir to the throne of Rohan.  
  
Legolas made a sign to Gimli to stay with Cyrene and met the group of men halfway.  
  
"Greetings, Marshall of Rohan. You fought well at a difficult battle."  
  
"Greetings Master Elf, I have heard wondrous tales about your skill on the battlefield. I am here to see Cyrene." Eomer kept his tone civil but was upset to be intercepted on his way to see the Amazon, more so as he saw her lying on the ground next to the dwarf and his concern for her well being grew.  
  
Legolas remembered vividly the scene between Eomer and Cyrene that he had walked upon in Edoras. And he understood Eomer's lack of patience for finding out if the woman was well, but Gimli and he had taken over the care of Cyrene, at least for the moment, and right now the beat up Amazon needed her rest.  
  
"I am afraid Milord, you may not disturb her now. She is resting from her battle injuries and she was in sore need of sleep."  
  
Eomer felt anger and frustration rise. This Elf dared to stop him from seeing her! And for a moment he regretted having allowed her to join the army, but he also new there hadn't been a thing he could have done, short of locking her up in the dungeon, to keep her from doing what she wanted. His newly discovered feelings for the Amazon were raging inside of him. And there was Legolas again, intercepting him on his way to her side. Was she really that badly hurt? But the archers had told him about her being well, only exhausted. He wanted to see for himself, his heart aching with the need to see her and making sure she would be fine.  
  
"What injuries are those you are referring to, Master Legolas? I lost sight from your group in the battle. I did not know she was hurt."  
  
"She was hit in the head by an orc. A severe blow. But Mistress Cyrene kept on fighting until the end of the battle. She isn't hurting much now, but we kept her awake from dawn on to be sure she wouldn't fall into the "endless sleep" many men wounded in the head fall to. She is resting now. " Legolas could read Eomer's thoughts in his face as clearly as if they were written on his forehead. And for a moment, he felt uneasy at the thought of the Marshall being close to Cyrene. Was it...Was it jealousy?" Legolas thought and shook his head almost imperceptibly at the thought. He couldn't be jealous about a woman he had met but days ago. He must be even more tired from the fight than he thought. "I want to see how she fares. Step aside, Master Elf." Said Eomer. He was going to see her.  
  
Legolas stood his ground. He looked from Eomer to the soldiers around him and decided not to let them pass.  
  
"I am sorry, Marshall, but you may not."  
  
Eomer took a deep breath, as he sensed the tension growing in the men around him. Some even put their hands on their swords. The elf was unarmed. He knew of the Rohirrim's distrust of strangers, and who could be more foreign to them than the creature before him or the sturdy dwarf who was now standing in front of Cyrene's sleeping form?  
  
"May I come close and see her, Master Legolas? I won't disturb her sleep."  
  
Legolas turned to Gimli, whose hand was holding the grip of Cyrene's battle- axe as if measuring it. The dwarf nodded, imperceptibly for human eyes, but clearly for the elf's keen sight.  
  
Legolas turned to Eomer. "You may approach her, Milord Marshall, but please do it alone."  
  
Eomer turned to his entourage and made them a sign to stay behind.  
  
He stepped closer to where Cyrene lay, and Gimli gave him space to kneel next to the sleeping woman.  
  
She was sleeping on her right side, cuddled up in Legolas cloak. The bruise on the left side of her face was turning from black and blue to purple and yellow. The rest of her face was pale, so much that her normally tanned skin seemed lifeless and the freckles on her nose stood out to the eye. There were also dark shadows under her closed eyes. But she was sleeping peacefully; there was also a hint of a smile on her lips.  
  
Eomer fought the urge to smooth a tendril of hair from her face. The elf and the dwarf were right. She was fine now. But he wasn't leaving her with them. She belonged to Eowyn, to Rohan, she belonged to him. He stood up and turned to Gimli and Legolas and spoke.  
  
"She is not well and you cannot provide the proper care for her. She is a captain of the army of the Mark. She will be brought to the infirmary, there it will be seen to all of her needs."  
  
Legolas took a step toward Eomer, his hand resting on the dagger at his belt.  
  
"She only needs to rest now, Marshall, leave her alone. She has been taken care of."  
  
"You don't need to concern yourself further with Mistress Cyrene, Master Elf."  
  
"But she will remain with us until she wakes up and decides what to do."  
  
The argument was being held in loud and angry voices, both men trying to keep the appearance of civility but getting carried away by the each other's stubbornness. Gimli put a hand on Legolas arm and motioned his head towards Cyrene, who was awake, trying to get up. As she accomplished it, she staggered slightly and both, Legolas and Eomer wanted to help her but she didn't let them close. She gained her balance and looked at both, fury raging in her eyes. "It seems that men around me have forgotten that I am my own and not some kind of property to be fought over. If it pleases you both to continue your argument, do so. But look for another object for your quarry. I am returning to my company of archers."  
  
She received her bow from Gimli's hands and smiled brightly at him, then turned around, and leaning on her bow she strode past Legolas, Eomer and Eomer's soldiers, ignoring all of them, headed towards the tents of the army set on the other side of the bay.  
  
After Eomer and his men had left, Legolas had sat down across Gimli and was glowering at the dwarf. "She should have stayed here. We are her comrades in arms, we fought at her side and we took care of her." " But she has lived for a long time in Edoras, Legolas. The Marshall thinks he has some rights where she is concerned" reasoned Gimli "And Eomer and you where arguing about her as if she were . hmmm . cattle?"  
  
Legolas blushed. Gimli was right, and assuming Cyrene was as proud as the Amazons were told to be, he had insulted her and her independence. If he treasured her friendship, he had behaved like an utter fool, no matter what his intentions had been. And he still wasn't sure about his intentions towards Cyrene.  
  
Gimli observed his friends face, and even though he couldn't read the elf's thoughts, he knew that Legolas thoughts weren't far away, at least not outside the fortress walls, but most likely with a female archer captain.  
  
************************************************** 


	9. Chapter Nine: ELVEN TOUCH

Title: In the Midst of Adversity Author: Maram68 Rating: R  
  
Feedback: maram@zuper.net. Please, I need to know if you like it, to keep on writing. So, please, R & R . I have a tough hide, criticism is welcome if it helps me to improve. Disclaimer: I do not own any of J.R.R. Tolkien's characters or settings, even if I love them as if they were my own. The idea and Cyrene are mine, only mine. ******************************  
  
Rating: R !  
  
A MILLION THANKS AND ALL MY LOVE TO DEB, AND MORE LOVE TO MY MATE UNA  
  
Chapter IX: Elven Touch  
  
Almost an hour later, Aragorn sought Gimli and Legolas out to join the King's war council.  
  
They entered the tent of King Theoden where Gandalf, Theoden, Eomer and the army's generals stood. When Legolas and Gimli stood next to Aragorn and Gandalf, the last group of soldiers entered the tent. Among them was Cyrene.  
  
The soldiers of the group where all captains, who went down on one knee in front of their king and liege to greet him. Cyrene didn't kneel, but put her closed fist over her heart and bent her head.  
  
Theoden walked over to the kneeling soldiers and bid them to rise. He smiled as his eyes fell on the Amazon. "I have heard of your heroic deeds in the battle, Amazon. You live up to the legends of the warrior women. Thank you for your services, daughter of Artemis" Cyrene looked up. Her look was serene and proud. She bent her head again to the King of Rohan. "I am proud to fight under your command, Sire. The Rohirrim fought bravely a hard battle."  
  
Theoden smiled to the woman again and turned to the council.  
  
"Gandalf has once again saved the day. I don't know what magic you have used, but we have beaten the enemy." There were joyous exclamations among the soldiers.  
  
Gandalf said. "I promised to come with reinforcements and I did. It was very fortunate that Erkenbrand's army was so fast and we arrived in time to turn the outcome of the battle. The others who lent us their assistance were the Ents, an ancient power from long before the elves were in Middle Earth."  
  
Theoden asked, "Ents, are this powerful creatures our allies?"  
  
Gandalf shrugged. "For now they were. I do not know about the future. To find the answers to your questions you would have to go with me to Isengard. I am going back there with whoever wants to join me."  
  
"But even if we could gather the army together, heal their wounds and give them some rest, there are not enough men in the whole Mark to attack Saruman's fortress " Eomer interrupted.  
  
"Anyway I am going to Isengard, but I will not linger there for long for my way leads me now east, to Edoras, before the new moon," said the wizard.  
  
"No," said the king, " I might have doubted you in the dark hours before dawn, but I will not part from your side again. I will go with you if it is  
  
your counsel that I should do so."  
  
"I will speak to Saruman as soon as possible, and since the damage made to you was grand, it would be right if you would accompany me. How soon would you be ready to ride?"  
  
"The battle has exhausted my men and I am also tired."  
  
"Then, those who have decided to accompany me should have their rest now. We will ride in the dark hours of the night, for from now on our actions must be kept secret. Do not gather a large escort, Theoden. We are  
  
going to Isengard to negotiate, not to battle."  
  
Theoden agreed and called his fastest riders who weren't injured and sent them to proclaim the victory of the last battle in all the valleys of the Mark and gather all men in Edoras for the full moon. For the escort who would ride with him to Isengard he chose Eomer and twenty men, among who were Cyrene and five of her archers. With Gandalf would ride Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli.  
  
When the council was dismissed, Theoden called Cyrene to his presence.  
  
The woman stood again in front of the king, her head bent and her closed fist close to her heart in salute to the king in whose service she stood.  
  
"Sire, I am listening to your command"  
  
"Cyrene, many of my ancestors have not yet dared to make a claim on the pact forged between Eorl and Lysippe ages ago. I think now it is the time."  
  
Cyrene felt a shiver run down her spine. Theoden would call the Amazons to help. And they would come, because it was their duty to honor the ancient pact.  
  
"Yes Sire. They will come."  
  
Theoden came close to her and gave her the medallion with the white horse that Eorl had once given to the Amazon queen Lysippe, and that Cyrene herself had given to Theoden when she had arrived at Edoras. "How will you get the message to your sisters, Cyrene? I want you to come with Eomer and me to Isengard."  
  
"I will send Dumetar with the medallion and a message to a friend on the coast, that will send notice to the island. I will meet the Amazons and guide them to you for the battle, Sire."  
  
Theoden reached to her and clasped her forearm as a sign of respect. "You are a great warrior; the Rohirrim are honored to have you fighting at their side."  
  
The Amazon bent her head again and left the king's tent. She had to write a  
  
message and find Dumetar as soon as possible.  
  
**************************************************  
  
Eomer was walking towards his tent to sleep a couple of hours before sunrise, when he saw someone sitting on the battlements of the fortress, away from the fires, staring at the decreasing half moon. He recognized the silhouette cut against the starry sky. He walked toward the steps that  
  
lead to the battlements, as he saw a lean shadow also carrying a bow approaching the one seated on the wall. Eomer cursed under his breath and decided to talk later to Cyrene, who was the one sitting on the wall. Having another scene with the elf, which was approaching her at the moment, was not what he had in mind when telling her about his feelings and asking her to stay in Edoras with him. He was a fool for not having recognized his feelings for the Amazon sooner.  
  
Legolas was sure that Cyrene could not hear him approaching for no human could hear an elf walk, except maybe Aragorn, who had been brought up in Rivendell among elves.  
  
So he was startled to hear Cyrene ask, without turning her head, "What can I do for you, Master Legolas?"  
  
"I wanted to apologize for my behavior earlier today, Mistress Cyrene"  
  
"You do? Well then you are a very exceptional male, Master Elf, since all males are so used to confound women with possessions that they wouldn't even notice their mistake. You are forgiven. Go and have your rest before the ride to Isengard"  
  
She almost heard him grin. "Elves almost don't need any rest, Mistress. Seems like Amazons don't bother to sleep either." She felt for a moment like smiling too. This elf was indeed distracting her  
  
from the dark thoughts she was trying to sort out in her head. The prospect  
  
of being with her sisters in matter of days was disturbing; she didn't think she was ready for the encounter.  
  
"I am saying my prayers to the Goddess, Master Legolas. Then I will rest."  
  
"Do you mind if I join you, Mistress? I would like to know more about your people."  
  
"My people? Would you judge us again by the standards of those who are different to us and by the old tales spun by those who never knew the Amazons?"  
  
"I promise to try not to judge what I do not know of, Mistress. May I join you?"  
  
She sighed. She was not going to sleep. And maybe she just needed to forget her thoughts of exile and duty for a while. She nodded to the elf that carefully sat down close, but not too close to her. She recognized the manner. It was the same way she would have used by accustoming a horse to be touched by humans. Close enough to be recognized but not too close not to scare the horse away. , she thought wryly.  
  
Some time later, Cyrene had almost forgotten her reserves about Legolas. He was a great companion. She had told him about the origins of the Amazons and he had told her about the creation of the elves. She avoided telling him about the customs of the Amazons regarding men. Just enjoyed listening to his tales and stories. At the sound of his pleasant voice she felt at ease and relaxed.  
  
Legolas was enjoying sitting in the dark next to Cyrene. Since he was curious about her and the Amazons, he listened to her low voice telling him  
  
about ancient stories from gods, goddesses and long forgotten wars. He could tell the woman was exhausted and troubled but he also sensed she was relaxing in his presence.  
  
While Cyrene was shifting, accommodating against the wall, she felt her forearm cramp. It was something she had since she was very young, the cramping of her forearms or calves. She knew her cramped hand wasn't a pretty sight, so she hid her arm in the shadows while she single-handedly untied the lacings of her wrist-guard to massage her arm.  
  
Legolas noticed something was wrong with Cyrene, but didn't see what was bothering her. He thought if he should ask her or just come closer, to  
  
see if he could help her, risking her rejection. He came closer.  
  
The woman had removed her wrist guard and thrown it on the ground and was slowly massaging her forearm, trying to unclench her hand. Her fingers were tensed, her hand looked almost like a claw. It was painful, but she would ease the pain soon. She turned her attention from her hand and found Legolas kneeling at her side, closer than before. He just reached silently for her hurting hand and stopped before touching it, asking her with a look if he might take her arm. She looked for a couple of seconds into his gentle eyes and nodded. Then turned her face away, as if embarrassed by the ugly sight of her cramping hand.  
  
The elf focused on the amazons arm. By the clenching of the hand and the tensed muscles, he imagined it was painful. He touched her skin very lightly and started massaging gently the muscles and bending the fingers. He looked up as he heard that Cyrene had inhaled sharply at his touch, but her face was still averted from him.  
  
"Is the pain subsiding, Mistress? Do not be ashamed about the cramp. Archers suffer these injuries often" he offered. "Even elven archers suffer  
  
them, when they overexert themselves."  
  
Cyrene was touched by the sympathy of the words. She looked back at his face, with a smile on her lips. "I thank you for your kindness, master elf.  
  
You have wondrous hands, the pain is fading now. "  
  
Under his warm hands, the fingers began loosening up and the muscles of her arm relaxed. As soon as her arm felt like normal again, the effect of the elf's touch on her skin, on her arm, began spreading to the rest of her  
  
body like the warmth of fire after having been in the cold for too long. Her senses began to tingle, aware of the closeness of this male. She put her left hand on his and stopped the massaging, lifting her right arm from his hands.  
  
"I thank you again for your assistance, Master Legolas. You have been a true and kind brother in arms to me."  
  
Legolas understood her wish and retreated to where he was sitting before. This woman was intriguing, fascinating, but he did not wish to rush anything with Cyrene. He sat back leaning on the wall, close to her and began singing softly an elvish lullaby. She laced her wrist-guard again, and folded her right arm into her cloak. She leaned also against the wall, and listened to his song. Slowly her eyes fell shut, as she peacefully drifted into slumber . ************************************************** 


	10. Chapter Ten: CLOSER TO THE FIRE

Title: In the Midst of Adversity Author: Maram68 Rating: R  
  
Feedback: maram@zuper.net. Please, I need to know if you like it, to keep on writing. So, please, R & R . I have a tough hide, criticism is welcome if it helps me to improve. Disclaimer: I do not own any of J.R.R. Tolkien's characters or settings, even if I love them as if they were my own. The idea and Cyrene are mine, only mine.  
  
******************************  
  
Chapter X: Closer to the fire  
  
It was still dark as the riders left Helm's Deep heading for Isengard, crossing the forest of the Ents.  
  
In the front rode Gandalf, Theoden, Aragorn, Eomer, Legolas and Gimli. Further back, leading the archers of the escort rode Cyrene. She felt refreshed after a few hours of deep sleep. She remembered having fallen asleep while Legolas was singing, sitting next to the elf in the battlements of the fortress. While they rode, she reflected on the previous night. She was enjoying the easy camaraderie with Legolas and Gimli. And she was sure that the tingling sensation she felt whenever the elf touched her came from the fact that he was an elf not a human. She would have liked to have Eowyn close to ask her about that, but the question would have to wait.  
  
Cyrene still felt uneasy with Eomer though. After the incident in Edoras they had not talked anymore than to discuss battle strategies and moves. She was aware that he wanted to talk to her and the fact that she had walked away from him and the elf the day before was not making the matter any easier for them.  
  
She saw Eomer leaving the front of the group and leading his horse towards her. He rode next to her.  
  
"This is a strange forest, Cyrene, it sends cold shivers down my back. Do you feel it?" said Eomer.  
  
Cyrene looked at her friend and then to the dark, menacing trees around them.  
  
"This is a magic forest, Eomer. It feels very alive; as if there were eyes watching us at every step we take. If Gandalf says they are friendly, I take his word for that and try to adjust to the thought that this is something that I haven't seen before."  
  
Eomer smiled at that. There she was, calm and brave adjusting to whatever came her way. He missed her smile.  
  
"I wanted to speak to you since before the battle, my friend. I think I owe you some explanations for my behavior the past days ." started Eomer.  
  
Cyrene was not sure she wanted to discuss the matter. "Eomer, you are my dearest friend, almost as a brother to me. You have been patient and generous with me when I arrived in Rohan, while I was learning the ways of your people. I beg you not to change the deep friendship we share . "  
  
"Cyrene, I have come to think differently. You are more to me than a friend, a comrade in arms, and a sister. I want you sharing my life and I want to court you and make you care for me the way I do for you ." His beautiful eyes sought hers, hoping to see acceptance and care.  
  
But the amazon's eyes were sad, as she looked at him and ruefully shook her head. "You are the Heir to the Throne of the Mark, Eomer. You have a duty towards your kingdom and your people. You will marry for an alliance that brings peace and strength to Rohan. And I cannot give you neither, only the promise that you can count on my sword and my bow, whenever you might need them. There is no more I can give you my friend, my brother."  
  
Her fingers gently touched his cheek. "If you might excuse me milord, my first duty is to see to the men in my charge. " Then she turned her horse and went riding to the last riders of the group.  
  
Eomer saw her leave and understood she would not give in. She never did.  
  
**************************************************  
  
The night caught up with them after the riders had left the strange forest and were riding through the valley of the Isen River. They made camp for the night when they reached the beginning of Misty Mountains.  
  
Legolas was restless. The atmosphere was tense; the air foul with smoke and a dense mist was coming from Isengard. All plants around them had been burned down, the trees had been ripped out from the ground. The destruction of nature around them was far more disturbing to him than the dark murmurs of the Ent's Forest. He found no ease, neither in Aragorn's nor in Gimli's company.  
  
Gimli and Aragorn had fallen asleep, and Legolas was standing guard by the campfire, even though all watch shifts had been given to Theoden's escort.  
  
About midnight, the mist had covered the camp. Legolas heard very light steps approaching their fire and armed his bow; turning to the faint noise only he was able to hear. From the mists emerged a cloaked figure, which saw him and let the hood of the cloak down. It was Cyrene.  
  
"Be at ease, Master Legolas, it is only me. " she said and smiled at him, approaching to the fire and warming her hands. "It is a disturbing night, Master Elf. Since my watch is over and I could not rest I came to see how my new friends are faring."  
  
Legolas put down the bow and smiled at her also. This woman made him feel a little better, even if he felt restless and wary of the surrounding shadows. "You are welcome to our fire anytime you like, Mistress Cyrene. We are very honored to be considered your friends. " He sat on his haunches and rubbed the tense muscles in his neck "It is a very strange night indeed. I will not rest until we leave this place."  
  
Cyrene observed the elf from the corner of her eye. She had heard that elves had strong connections to nature, and Legolas was very distraught over the damage done to the land. She found the heavy mist and the moonless night also disturbing and didn't dare to lay down and sleep.  
  
She knew she was in Gimli's and Legolas' debt for their care and help after Helm's Deep. She saw the shadows in the elf's eyes and decided to comfort him as he had comforted her the night before. She approached him embarrassed, but she knew what she wanted to do.  
  
"Let me help you, Master Legolas, the same way you helped me last night. Let me ease your discomfort."  
  
He didn't know what she meant at first, but nodded and let her step closer to him, until she stood at his back. She reached for his neck, carefully gathering his long pale hair on his shoulder and putting her hands inside the collar of his tunic to be able to massage the tense muscles. The instant her fingers touched Legolas skin, both felt the tingling, running up her arms and down his spine. Cyrene almost shied away from him, but forced herself to endure the strange and pleasant sensation that made every nerve in her body aware of the others presence. She rubbed and massaged with deft fingers tension and strain away from the elf's neck and shoulders.  
  
Legolas was fighting the urge to take the magic hands that were easing his muscles and sweep the woman into his arms. While the soreness from his neck was slowly disappearing, he felt desire build up in his loins as the motion of the firm fingers at the nape of his neck sent waves of warmth through his body.  
  
He took some deep breaths and closed his eyes, as he reasoned with himself that he shouldn't give in to the impulses and sensations raging inside him, because the Amazon was a cherished friend, a comrade in arms, a woman who was tending to him in friendship and trust. It had been difficult to earn Cyrene's trust, he would not loose it on a momentary lapse of passionate insanity. He would keep control of himself.  
  
Cyrene felt the warm, now soft and supple skin under her hands and reveled in the feeling, letting her hands roam further beneath the tunic, to his shoulder blades and from there up to his scalp. The muscles had relaxed and she heard Legolas' breath quicken under her ministrations.  
  
Legolas wanted to thank her for her kind return and before he knew it, his own hands took hold of hers and gentle caressed them. Planting a soft, albeit innocent kiss on them, his heightened senses took immediate stock of  
  
the texture of her fingers, both soft and rough, callused even, speaking of  
  
her life as a warrior. He didn't know what came over him but his lips seemed to have a life of their own as he started to nibble and lick at her soft skin, a heady sensation running up and down his spine as his earlier thoughts left him and passion and yearning for the Amazon took over his rational thinking.  
  
He breathed light butterfly kisses on her fingers, her palms, the base of her thumbs, and the soft skin in the inside of her wrists. She enjoyed the unknown sensations and closing her eyes leaned into his back. As Legolas felt her body closer, he started nipping, licking reverently the pulse at her wrists, biting gently the flesh at the base of her thumbs, worshipping the fine fingers that had generously taken the strain in his neck away.  
  
The Amazon had never before felt anything like the warmth his touch provoked in her before. She felt weak and light, as if her blood had turned into air and she was floating. Cyrene fell to her knees, her arms still wrapped around Legolas neck. He reached for her turning around and pulled the woman onto his lap. She opened her eyes in shock as she found herself trapped in his arms and his manhood hard against her thigh but kept looking into his eyes that held her enthralled. Slowly, ever so slowly, Legolas leaned into her and brushed very lightly his lips against hers. She sighed and he started worshipping her lips as carefully as he had been wooing her hands before. When he licked her lips, she instinctively opened her mouth and he let his tongue enter slowly and rub against her tongue very softly, belying the need he felt raging through his body. Cyrene moaned into his mouth as she pressed herself against him.  
  
Gimli grumbled and moved in his sleep. Cyrene and Legolas sprung up and apart, standing mere feet away from another, breathing hard and flushed with unfulfilled desire. Legolas smiled, his eyes showing resignation. Cyrene felt confused and ashamed. She did not smile.  
  
"I thank you for your kind help, Mistress Cyrene" said Legolas, not taking his eyes even for a second away from the Amazon's face. She nodded, put up her hood and walked away into the mist, wrapping her arms around herself, trying to put the wild sensations that still coursed through her body under control.  
  
The elf sat down by the fire, sighing. His neck was relaxed but others parts of his body were aching. It was going to be a very long night.  
  
*************************************** 


	11. Chapter Eleven: CHOICES?

Title: In the Midst of Adversity Author: Maram68 Rating: R  
  
Feedback: maram@zuper.net. Please, I need to know if you like it, to keep on writing. So, please, R & R . I have a tough hide, criticism is welcome if it helps me to improve. Disclaimer: I do not own any of J.R.R. Tolkien's characters or settings, even if I love them as if they were my own. The idea and Cyrene are mine, only mine. ******************************  
  
Chapter XI: Choices?  
  
Aragorn rose early, even though there was no sign of dawn yet, as there were no birds singing, no sunlight, no sound at all that could announce sunrise. But he felt the beginning of the day in his bones. He also sensed a sound that had been missing in the dead still of the previous night. The river had awakened, it's water flowing again, bringing the promise of life back to the burned and blackened earth.  
  
As he sat up and looked around the camp he shared with Gimli and Legolas, he saw the dwarf still asleep, snoring lightly, and his elven friend leaning against a tree, deep engrossed in his thoughts. Aragorn's mouth wore a little smile. He had seen a part of what had transpired between Legolas and Cyrene last night, while both had been distracted with each other. For the time he had been a friend to Legolas, the elven prince had been eagerly followed by many she-elves and admired by many women, who fell in love with his beautiful face and calm demeanor. But he had not held any relationship with any of them, though it was known to Aragorn that Legolas could have as many companions in his bed as he wanted, be it in Rivendell or Mirkwood, as he had done in his youth.  
  
So, now, he had found his match in a very unlikely creature, an Amazon, no less. If tender feelings could still grow in the midst of darkness, blood and war, there was still hope for them in vanquishing Sauron's threat forever.  
  
He thought of Arwen, as he held the pendant she had given him before leaving Rivendell and hoped that his friend could find the same light he shared with the Evenstar.  
  
"Good morning Legolas, I hope you got some rest through this strange night." He greeted his companion.  
  
Legolas looked up from the fire to Aragorn. "I did not rest Aragorn, my mind has found new challenges ahead. May the Valar light our way." He said and stood up, to prepare the horses, for they were to continue the ride soon.  
  
**************************************************  
  
The valley surrounding the tower of Orthanc was also devoid of trees. The once fertile ground was dry and broken.  
  
But the mist had gone away and the sun shone timidly on the riders approaching the fortress of Isengard, which, to their surprise, was in ruins.  
  
They rode through the remains of the once proud buildings, mostly under water, to the only one which still stood almost unharmed: Saruman's Tower.  
  
Their eyes suddenly were drawn to a movement near at hand. On a pile of rubble were two creatures sitting, as if they were waiting for the new arrival. They were small, as tall as ten-year-old children, with curly hair on their head and rather big and hairy bare feet. Though they were only as tall as a grown man's waist , they looked as if they were also grown men. One was sleeping, and the other was calmly smoking a pipe. As he saw the group approaching, he gave his sleeping companion a kick to wake him and jumped to his feet. Standing in front of the riders he spoke: "Hail Theoden, King of Rohan! My companion and I have been bade to await your arrival and to welcome you to Isengard with all the honor due to your station. I am Meriadoc, son of Saradoc Brandybuck and this is Peregrin, son of Paladin, of the house of Took. The wizard Saruman is in the tower, locked up by himself with a man by the name of Wormtongue. You are welcome in this place and any thing that you may need shall be put at your disposal."  
  
Gandalf couldn't suppress a laugh welling up in him by the sight of the hobbits and Merry's impressive speech. "Well done, Master Meriadoc! Was it Saruman who posted you here to guard the entrance to Isengard and receive the visitors?"  
  
"No, Sir, Saruman has been occupied with some uninvited guests. He has not been out of the tower of Orthanc. It was Treebeard who set us to this post, since he has taken the government of Isengard." replied Merry.  
  
Gimli couldn't stop himself longer from crying out "And you don't have even a word for us, your companions, for Legolas and for me? It was quite some chase you have led us on. And here you are, smoking, feasting and resting!"  
  
Gandalf interrupted, "I would wish to speak to Treebeard, where can I find him Merry?"  
  
"You may find him up north, having a drink from the only water here that can still be taken by man or ent, on the shore of the Isen river."  
  
"So King Theoden? Will you come with me to talk to Treebeard? When you speak to him you will learn many a thing because he is also called Fangorn, and is the oldest living creature in this world," spoke Gandalf.  
  
"I will join you, my friend". And the King of Rohan and his escort rode along with Gandalf to find Treebeard.  
  
Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli stayed behind with the hobbits. As the escort rode by them, Legolas looked up to see Cyrene pass by. She didn't wear a helmet anymore , and was easily recognizable among the Rohirrim Archers. He smiled as she also looked back to him. Beside him, Gimli was observing both and quietly chuckling to himself.  
  
**************************************************  
  
As the friends sat together again, exchanging the tales of their separate adventures, Legolas sat silently by and didn't say a word. When Merry, Pippin, Aragorn and Gimli started to smoke their pipes, he walked away and lay down on the ground, looking up to the sky, enjoying the clearing sky. He had to think about many things: the quest, their adventures so far, Rohan, Cyrene and what was about the Amazon that preoccupied him so much.  
  
He hadn't noticed much about her when he saw Cyrene tending to dinner in Meduseld, and when he intruded on the embrace between Cyrene and Eomer. He had been impressed by the archer captain at Helm's Deep, and surprised to find out it was a woman, and not a common one at that. Since then, he had been intrigued by the way the mortal female behaved and about the fact that she was an Amazon.  
  
He also sensed some sorrow that lay deep inside of her, tarnishing her ever- present lust for life. This woman was in that regard like an elf, being drawn deeper into grief and only resigning to survive in this world, which wasn't hers.  
  
But he couldn't deny that there was something else between them, every time they touched or were near the other. He hadn't wanted a female like he wanted this woman ever before in his whole life. It was almost as if they were drawn to each other by a force beyond their might.  
  
And she wasn't aware of the power and effect she had over him. She seemed surprised and even annoyed by the sensations that went through them both. Legolas was also sure he had seen something like confusion and fear in her eyes, as they had awkwardly broken their embrace the night before. Cyrene was not a young girl anymore, not by human standards. But maybe it was different among the amazons . well, he was intent on trying to find out, before their roads parted again and she went back to Edoras with Eomer .  
  
Eomer cared for Cyrene that was plain for everybody to see. And she cared for him too. But were they more than friends? Legolas felt his blood pumping faster by the thought of Cyrene and Eomer being lovers. How did he manage to complicate his life and forget the quest for a moment ?  
  
His duty was towards the quest and the Fellowship. He should try to put aside everything else. Including his body and soul's craving for the raven-haired Amazon.  
  
Legolas stood up and went to the circle of his friends, hoping he could forget her.  
  
**************************************************  
  
Theoden and Gandalf reached the Isen River and went to meet Treebeard while the escort made a pause by the stream, to water the horses and replenish their water supplies. Cyrene borrowed a canteen from the archers to also bring some fresh water to Gimli, Aragorn and Legolas, who had stayed behind by the tower. She went to the shore to fill the canteens and let the sight of the flowing water soothe her.  
  
She smiled as she thought of how easily it was for her to remember her new friends. Gimli, the dwarf, who seemed to be harsh to everybody but had been tender and friendly to her. His wry sense of humor was very much to her liking. Aragorn, who had earned her respect in battle and aside of it. She could understand Eowyn's admiration for him. He was an exceptional man, and if he were her captain she would follow him into the fires of Mordor and beyond. She was in awe of the wizard Gandalf, as she had never met a wizard before.  
  
And then, her thoughts turned to Legolas. Kind, brave, amazing, beautiful Legolas. The tall elf was an enigma to her. He was like a man, and still not quite like a man.  
  
Since she had come to live in the world of men, she had learned much about them. She had earned their trust and respect as a warrior, and some of the archers and Eomer considered her a true friend. She knew some men might think of her in the way they thought about other women, in the way they wanted them for mating and sometimes joining their lives. But she knew that she wasn't born to join anybody's life.  
  
Among the Amazon's there was no place for men, and even if some of her sisters had left the island and joined their lives to men, she was not looking forward to ever assume the life of women in this world.  
  
Legolas made her feel treasured and secure; he gave her hope when she felt herself drowning in the dark thoughts about her fate. He also made her feel strange. His touch provoked in her longing and warmth and the insane urge to touch him likewise and lose herself into his arms and forget about anything else. The feeling scared the wits out of Cyrene.  
  
She was well beyond the age in which the amazons began their travels from the island to the coast to mate and breed. She had been told how the mating between man and woman was supposed to be, and that it was her duty to endure it to preserve their society. But due to her position in the island and the fact that she had left the amazons for good, or so she had thought before Theoden's command to call upon them, she had never gotten to be together with any male.  
  
Cyrene had doubts about what exactly happened whenever she and Legolas touched each other. And it frightened her, because she lost control of herself. It would be better if she tried to stay away from the elf, even though the thought left her yearning for the recently acquired friendship and camaraderie. She reminded herself that her duties were to bring honor and fame to the amazons and then to her service to Theoden. She had never forgotten her responsibilities, and it was bound to them, that she had left everything dear to her behind and was now in this world, in which she would never find a place of her own.  
  
She turned from the water after having filled the canteens and walked over to her horse, to find Eomer waiting for her. "Cyrene, I have been waiting for you. I missed you." Said Eomer and put his hand over hers, as she was binding the canteens to her saddle. He had strong, warm hands, but she didn't feel anything when he touched her. She knew that he would be upset if she pulled her hand away. She kept her hand still and smiled at him, imperceptibly nudging her mare to move, so Eomer would let go of her. The horse obliged and moved, making Eomer take a step aside and draw his hand back.  
  
"I am always there for you, my friend. You should know that." She said and smiled sadly at Eomer. Something in their friendship had changed since the night he had embraced her in Edoras. And Cyrene could not understand about his efforts to "claim" her as if she belonged to him. She had given him her friendship and really cared about Eomer and Eowyn, for they had welcomed her into Edoras when she was a stranger, alone, with no knowledge of their world and their people.  
  
"Do you have any news of Eowyn?" she asked him. Eomer smiled at her. She was the best friend his sister could have. She had proved herself to him and to Rohan as loyal, brave and true. He was still thinking about the last time they had talked, and he decided he would not give up on her. Cyrene was worth it.  
  
"No, Cyrene, the messengers have not come back yet. Maybe when we return to Helm's Deep we might have news. Do you miss her?" he told her.  
  
"If I miss her? Well, Eomer, of course I do!!!! I wouldn't have wanted her in the middle of the battle, but I miss her smile and her company. I love her as if she were my flesh and blood."  
  
"Well, I know you care much about my sister and I hope you care about me . but would you again consider what we talked yesterday and maybe let me try to convince you ." Eomer started.  
  
Cyrene felt cornered. She didn't want to hurt Eomer, but he had to stop thinking about her as a possible mate. She just said. "Eomer, I love you very much as the best male friend I ever had. But I beg you, do not ever talk again of this . I told you before, you are now the Heir of Rohan, you need a princess. And besides I could never give you what you need and deserve. It is not in my nature . I just cannot. Forgive me Eomer." Saying this she turned away from him and mounted up, leaving him standing with unspoken words on his lips and sadness in his heart.  
  
************************* 


	12. Chapter Twelve: SURRENDER

Title: In the Midst of Adversity Author: Maram68 Rating: R  
  
Feedback: maram@zuper.net. Please, I need to know if you like it, to keep on writing. So, please, R & R . I have a tough hide, criticism is welcome if it helps me to improve. Disclaimer: I do not own any of J.R.R. Tolkien's characters or settings, even if I love them as if they were my own. The idea and Cyrene are mine, only mine. ****************************** Chapter XII: Surrender  
  
It was almost sunset, and the riders of Rohan were camping hours away from the ruins of Isengard.  
  
After having talked to Treebeard, Gandalf and Theoden had returned to Isengard and sought out Saruman. Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, Cyrene and Eomer had accompanied the king and the wizard to the encounter.  
  
It had been terrible. They had felt the incredible power of Saruman's voice, almost taking command over them, and had also been very impressed how Gandalf had defeated the older wizard. As result of the fight of the wizards, Saruman and Wormtongue were left behind at Isengard, guarded by the ents. Also, they had come in possession of a magical seeing stone, a palantir, which had belonged to Saruman before.  
  
Gandalf the White urged them to leave Isengard, but the night caught up with them and they had to camp in a valley outside Isengard, next to the Isen River.  
  
Cyrene issued some instructions to the archers, and left the camp behind, heading towards the site where she knew she would find Gandalf and the travelers. She was still in awe of the duel of power she had witnessed in the afternoon, as it had been the first time she had seen magic work.  
  
As she approached the fire, she stood for a moment between the bushes and smiled at the scene that she encountered; the hobbits sat with Gimli and were eating and talking to the dwarf at the same time, lively little creatures that they were. Gandalf and Aragorn were sitting on the other side of the fire, smoking their pipes and observing the hobbits and the dwarf. And Legolas . was nowhere to be seen.  
  
She didn't hear him approach, she rather felt him come closer. Her heart stopped a beat and she forgot to breath for a second, as she felt his breath on her neck and his beautiful voice whispering in her ear. "Welcome, my friend."  
  
Inside of Cyrene, all sorts of conflicting emotions were raging. She wanted to run and also to be able to fight the urge to surrender to the warmth of the body that was mere inches behind her back. She gave in and let herself lean into Legolas' arms.  
  
The elf was surprised, but gently received her weight into his frame and started breathing gentle kisses on her neck, following the line of her throat until the point where her pulse was beating, quickly, like the heart of a captive bird. He inhaled her smell, the smell of jasmine and orange blossom. Cyrene lifted her face towards his and he kissed her, gently first, nipping her lips, and then taking possession of her mouth.  
  
They almost didn't hear the call from the fire. "Legolas, is that you in the bushes?" said Pippin's shrill voice.  
  
Cyrene stiffened in Legolas' arms and he leant his forehead against her temple. She didn't draw back, but he felt her catching her breath and trying to get control of herself. He held her for one more second, before answering to those sitting by the fire. "Yes, it is me. "  
  
Cyrene looked up into his eyes, and changed her mind about visiting the hobbit's camp. She walked away from Legolas and silently retraced her own steps returning to the camp of the Rohirrim.  
  
Legolas looked after her, and then walked back to the fire. This woman was going to drive him insane.  
  
**************************************************  
  
Cyrene went back to the archers and leaving her sword, bow, quiver and axe by her saddle, she took her blanket and a little satchel with her, walking down to the river that flowed nearby. She walked as far as she figured it would be enough not to be seen by any of the soldiers and sentinels. She chose a secluded place, built a little fire and stripped. She needed a cold dive in the water.  
  
Legolas had settled back to the fire with his companions, but he was absentminded. He kept remembering the feel of Cyrene against his body, tall and willowy, a little bit shorter than him but rather tall for any woman, soft and supple but also muscled and lean. Her smell was still lingering in his nostrils, the feel of her hair caressing his face made him hard for the Amazon all over again.  
  
He stood up, and decided to go to the river to cool his body. And then he would talk to Cyrene. There was much to be told and as she had seemed to accept him and he had felt her own need, he was sure they would be able to talk about the situation.  
  
  
  
Cyrene swam in the cold water for a while, remembering the warm clear waters of the ocean in Artemis Island. She dived and came up again, swimming to the shore to retrieve the soap and finish her bath. She felt better now, she was again in control of her own body. Had the elf put a spell on her? Cyrene had to force her thoughts away from Legolas again, or the cold bath would have been for nothing.  
  
Legolas walked by the camp of the Rohirrim and saw Cyrene's saddle and her weapons by the fire where the archers were already preparing for the night. As he asked about her to the sentinel, he told him that the captain had left towards the river.  
  
The foolish woman had walked away from the camp unarmed? Legolas shook his head to clear his thoughts. He had to remind himself that this was no ordinary woman. This was an Amazon, capable of taking care of herself and his equal on any battlefield, as he could testify. He walked towards the river, going in his mind through what he wanted to tell her.  
  
When Legolas found and silently approached the small camp, he couldn't see Cyrene anywhere. He only heard soft splashing coming from the water. She was washing her black hair, standing in the water that went to her hips. The Amazon lifted her arms to finish lathering her hair, and the sight of her naked body hit Legolas like a blow to his chest.  
  
Always clad in wider, concealing clothes, he had not imagined how she would look like. In the soft moonlight falling on the river he saw all of her. Her waist was small, her breast were high and luscious, with dark nipples that were drawn tight by the cold from the water. Her arms where firm and slightly muscled, as was the archer's way. She went under water again to rinse her hair and as she surfaced again, he could catch a glimpse of her hips, her thighs and the dark nest between her legs. Legolas cursed under his breath, and jumped on the branch of a tree next to her camp. He would wait until she finished her bath to talk to her. He did not wish to embarrass her.  
  
Cyrene felt somebody watching her. She gripped the dagger strapped to her calf, but as she recognized the blonde hair of the elf sitting in the tree, she let her hand fall again. She resumed her bathing, flushed by the thought of Legolas watching her.  
  
She came out of the water, and enveloped herself in the blanket she had brought. Cyrene had never been ashamed of her body, but she knew that people in this world hid their nudity from another. So she dressed before letting Legolas know she had seen him.  
  
Legolas observed her emerge from the dark water from the river and saw the dagger strapped to her calf. So maybe she wasn't a fool. Cyrene took her time, putting her deerskin leggings and then some kind of deerskin vest on. The vest was laced tightly and held her breasts tight to her body as to hide them, while the leggings were loose as to cover up her curves. Once she had pulled her boots and tunic, she looked up directly to where he sat on the tree. "I guess you might come down now, Master Elf."  
  
So, the amazon had known he was there. He was surprised, again, that she could hear and see him move. But the elf knew she was a hunter, so he just smiled at her and sprang from the tree.  
  
"I looked for you, Cyrene, because I wanted to talk to you," he started. But she never let him finish. She walked over to him and put her arm on his. "I do not wish to talk about some things between us, Legolas. Just let it be. I have my duty and you have yours. "  
  
Legolas looked into her amber eyes and nodded. He was not going to force anything upon her. If she wasn't ready, he would wait.  
  
They sat by the fire in silence.  
  
"Don't you want to go back to the camp?" asked Legolas.  
  
"Not yet. Maybe by sunrise. I'd rather stay here. I love the water," said Cyrene.  
  
"But you should sleep, Cyrene." Insisted the elf.  
  
She really felt she needed some hours of sleep. "Will you stay or go back, Legolas?"  
  
Legolas pondered carefully what he was going to say. "If I may, I'd stay of course, my friend. I will guard your sleep, if you wish to rest."  
  
Cyrene smiled broadly at him, warming his heart. "Oh yes, I remember, elves do not sleep. I cherish your company, Legolas, and I'd be honored to have you guard my sleep. Tell me about the place you come from, Master Elf, as it is your turn to tell about your people."  
  
Cyrene leant back against the trunk of a tree, and listened to Legolas soft voice telling her about the beautiful Mirkwood and the dark forests surrounding it.  
  
Not before long, Legolas saw her eyes closing and Cyrene fell asleep, with a contented smile on her lips, dreaming of trees and elves.  
  
**************************************************  
  
Cyrene felt the fingers touching all over her body arousing her almost to the point of pain. Se reached desperately towards the hands touching her and couldn't find them, grabbing into air. Her lips ached for the touch of the lips she thought had feasted upon her and her whole body trembled. She was naked and felt a light breeze on her skin .. But she missed the warmth of the hands and lips she felt before . she wanted more . she moaned out loud, as her body arched up like if it had a will of its own.  
  
Legolas was staring into the fire, trying to sort out his thoughts and his feelings, for every time he shared a moment with the Amazon he got more confused and insecure of what to do next. This was not a matter of sleeping with her to get the woman out of his mind. He felt genuinely attracted to her, not only because of the desire that surged through his senses, but also because he saw in her soul a depth that rivaled the soul of any elf.  
  
He heard her moaning loud in her sleep and her body shooting off the ground. He came over to her, afraid she was in pain or having a nightmare. He took her face in his hands, gently cupping her cheek. She kept her eyes closed, but snuggled her face into the palm of his hand and rubbed her lips against his thumb. And she moaned again before her eyes opened in shock.  
  
"Cyrene, are you well?" asked Legolas in concern.  
  
Her eyes were wide open, her heart beating like a drum, her every sense tingling. She noticed that she was fully clothed and Legolas looked confused. She had been dreaming.  
  
Cyrene tried to get a grip on her body and mind. She could not. Her blood was pumping through her body like lighting and her body moved out of it's own volition. She swallowed hard, and tried to speak to ease Legolas, who was looking at her, still cradling her face. "I . can't . control this .. I need . what have you done to me?" her voice broke, as a single tear fell off the corner of her eye.  
  
Legolas understood what was happening. And also understood that this woman had never before known a man's touch. It pained him to see her suffering.  
  
"Listen to me, Cyrene. You have to find release from what you are feeling, and I can help you. Do you wish my help?"  
  
The Amazon blushed in shame and closed her eyes. She knew what he meant. And she wanted him. She needed him. She had to yield herself to him.  
  
As she opened her eyes, there were no more tears. But the elf saw the resignation in her look, and surrender, hopeless surrender.  
  
Legolas took a deep breath. He did not want to break her will, but he wanted her to share with him the joy of lovemaking. She would not have to yield but to give herself willingly into a joining of bodies and souls. So this night would be a gift from him, his gift to her.  
  
The elf took his cloak off and spread it on the ground next to where Cyrene was laying. He took his leather jerkin off and stretched next to the Amazon. Her eyes were closed again, and she was trembling. He touched her face again, and very lightly breathed little kisses on her lips. She moaned and her hands went to pull his head to her. He kissed her deeply, and felt her body wriggling to be closer to him. "Don't move, amaelamin, let me cherish you and give you pleasure, Cyrene." Her eyes were still shut as she nodded, and she bit her lower lip.  
  
His hands went to her tunic, and he took it gently off her, then he opened the lacings of her vest and then her leggings and boots. He covered them both with the cloaks and snuggled her closer to him, that she may not feel cold.  
  
But her skin radiated warmth, and he marveled at the sight of the honey- colored body offered to him. Between her breasts, that were eager peaks waiting for his attention, lay a little medallion in the form of the crescent moon, tied with a leather strap to her neck. The moment his hand touched her ribcage, she shot out from the ground, but she lay still again, the effort bringing out sweat on her forehead.  
  
Legolas wished he could have all night to worship this woman, but she needed her release soon. He gently traced with his fingers the soft skin and began kissing softly her breasts, starting at the base , making circles until he reached one nipple, while he caressed the other breast . Cyrene's body arched again, as his mouth fastened on one nipple , sucking and lapping it avidly. He turned his attention to the other breast, as his hand draw figures over her tummy and slowly slid down to her hips and thighs. When his hand touched her mound, her legs were shut tight, and he felt her tense. He slid back to her side, kissing her face and her lips again. Then he traced the line of her jaw to her ear, nibbling her earlobe. His hands were still drawing lazy circles around her breasts and tummy, caressing the hard nubs of her nipples. He whispered in her ear . "Beloved, let me touch everywhere, like the sun touches the flower. Do you trust me, Cyrene?"  
  
Cyrene's eyes flew open. She was beyond words, lost in the sensations his hands and mouth provoked in her body, more vivid and intense than anything she could have dreamed of. He was actually asking, before taking her? She had made up her mind to endure him taking possession of her body, but this gentle being was asking for her permission to enter her more intimate core. She sighed, as she looked up into his beautiful blue eyes, darkened by passion. Cyrene lost herself in Legolas' eyes and nodded, pulling his face back to hers, to kiss him freely and pouring all the passion gathered in her soul into the kiss.  
  
Legolas slid his hand down to draw more patterns on her thighs, and as they opened for him, he slowly, ever so slowly, and lightly touched her core, gently easing the folds apart until he fount the tiny knot that held her ecstasy. He tenderly stroked her and plucked at the nub, while still kissing her , feeling her breathing getting faster and her body lifting towards his touch. His mouth followed the path of his hands, and as he breathed on the curly nest of hair between her legs she gasped in shock. But he held her thighs down and kissed her thigh, before touching her core with his tongue.  
  
A ragged cry broke from her throat as she came and the force or her first orgasm almost threw her out of the blanket. Legolas saw her arch and thought that he had never before seen anything as beautiful as this before. She was still lost in the aftermath, as the elf gathered her into his arms and held her as if she was fragile and light. Her broken sobs tore at his heart, and her tears drenched his tunic. For she had noticed that he was still fully clothed and painfully aroused. She had feared conquering and ravishment, but he had generously given her tenderness and release, without taking anything for himself. She was confused, thankful and ashamed.  
  
"You have not sought your release, Legolas. My body was yours for the taking, and you did not use it. Why?"  
  
He sighed, for he was still fighting to get his own body under control. "Amaelamin, this night was for you. I will not take what you don't willingly offer, and my wish is not to conquer, but to share. I wish some time you will come to me from your own volition, and then we will soar together. Not before. "  
  
Cyrene enjoyed being held by Legolas, as her heart was slowly falling back into its normal pace. He smelled of wood and earth after the rain, and she had never noticed how good this smell could be. She closed her eyes, and for an instant she felt as if she belonged there.  
  
A piercing cry was heard in the night and Legolas and Cyrene jumped to their feet. "The scream came from our camp," said Legolas, picking up his jerkin and putting it on. Cyrene was lacing her leggings, and reached for her boots. "Run Legolas, they might need you. I will follow right behind you."  
  
The elf looked down at the woman that was half-dressed, readying herself for a fight . Gone was the confused creature he had held moments before. This was a warrior, the same he had met at Helm's Deep.  
  
He nodded and ran towards the fire where he knew his friends of the Fellowship would be, feeling for a moment guilty for having left them behind. He prayed to the Valar to find them well.  
  
************************************************** 


	13. Chapter Thirteen: MOVING ON

Title: In the Midst of Adversity Author: Maram68 Rating: R  
  
Feedback: maram@zuper.net Please, I need to know if you like it, to keep on writing. So, please, R & R . I have a tough hide, criticism is welcome if it helps me to improve.  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own any of J.R.R. Tolkien's characters or settings, even if I love them as if they were my own. The idea and Cyrene are mine, only mine. Archive: Nowhere yet.  
  
Thank's for all the feedback so far .... those who have taken some time to review, YOU ROCK!!!  
  
************************************  
  
Chapter XIII: Moving on  
  
When Legolas reached the camp of the Fellowship, the scene he found himself  
  
looking at was disturbing. Gandalf was sitting next to Pippin, whose face was pale and showing pain, but he had stopped screaming and now was merely crying with huge sobs. His eyes were wide open, and in them there was pain,  
  
terror and disbelief. The rest of his friends stood around them.  
  
"What happened, Mithrandir? I heard the scream and came back as soon as I could!" Legolas asked the wizard.  
  
"The power of Sauron works against all of us, Legolas. This time the evil eye tried to take possession of our friend Pippin, who gave in to curiosity and tried to see into the palantir. He hasn't received much harm, but the eye knows now where we are."  
  
The soldiers of Rohan led by Theoden and Eomer arrived. While Gandalf and Aragorn were explaining to the King and Marshall what had happened, Legolas  
  
walked over to the hobbits and Gimli sitting by Pippin. The young hobbit still seemed to be very disturbed, but wasn't as pale as before.  
  
Cyrene was watching them from afar, standing by the Rohirrim. But it was on the exact same instant that Legolas and Cyrene felt it approaching, for their eyes went up to the sky at the same time, moments before everybody else heard the flapping of giant wings and the monstrous shadow fell on them, darkening the light of the moon.  
  
It was a huge black winged creature, darkening even the stars. Everybody was petrified by terror. Legolas and Cyrene reached instinctively for their bows, even if they knew the creature was too far away for them to hit it with their arrows; it turned around and flew towards north.  
  
Gandalf looked up to the sky, his fists clenched, his arms tensed along his body. "Nazgul!" he said, "The messenger from Mordor. The storm is near, the Nazgul have crossed the river. You must leave now, at once, do not wait until dawn! Leave!!!"  
  
After a very short council, they decided that the Rohirrim, Aragorn, Gimli, Legolas and Merry would break camp immediately and return to Helm's Deep, while Gandalf was leaving with Pippin for Minas Tirith.  
  
Aragorn gathered Gimli, Legolas and Merry before joining the Rohirrim.  
  
"Gandalf has given the palantir to me. I feel my hour coming. After Helm's Deep the riders of Rohan will ride to Minas Tirith. But not me and whoever wants to join me. My path lays somewhere else. "  
  
"I will join you, Aragorn," said Legolas.  
  
"And so will Gimli!" said the dwarf.  
  
"Do not leave me behind!" cried Merry.  
  
Aragorn smiled at them sadly, because he knew that there was a very difficult task ahead of them, even if he could not tell what it was. He had never doubted the loyalty of his companions. But he also saw the shadows in the elf's eyes as he looked over to where the Rohirrim were almost ready to ride.  
  
While Gimli was helping Merry to gather his few belongings, Aragorn walked to Legolas, who was adjusting his saddle. "I know of the calling of your heart, my friend. I release you from your vow."  
  
Legolas spun around as if Aragorn would have hit his back. "No, Aragorn. My  
  
vow is still mine to keep. You may not release me. For my first duty lies with the quest and with you. Until we have defeated Sauron, my soul will not know of  
  
peace and my heart will only beat for the fight. Be at ease, I will not fail you. "  
  
Aragorn saw again the longing in Legolas' eyes but knew that he had already  
  
made up his mind. He only wished that fate would bring them together again.  
  
There was ominous silence hanging in the air as the riders departed.  
  
******  
  
Cyrene was lost in her thoughts almost the entire time of their trip back to Helm's Deep. Her thoughts changed from the Amazons and their decision to join the battle or not to the events that had transpired between herself and Legolas the previous night, to which she blushed profusely.  
  
After they had been riding for a couple of miles, and while trying to clear her head of such thoughts by surveying the landscape around her, Cyrene caught sight of some riders approaching their group. She approached the front of the group and bowed her head to the King."  
  
"Sire, there are riders approaching from the north. They are riding hard and have almost reached us."  
  
Theoden ordered a stop. The riders turned around preparing their spears. Aragorn got down from his horse, put Merry down and pulled out his sword before standing next to the king's stirrup. Eomer and Cyrene rode back to their positions at the rear of the group.  
  
As soon as the sound of hooves got closer, they could recognize that the followers were a group as large as theirs. Eomer commanded them to halt about fifty paces away from them. "Halt, who rides in Rohan?"  
  
The followers stopped at once. There was a moment of silence, and in the pale moonlight they saw one of the unknown riders get down from his mount and approach the Rohirrim holding a white hand up, the open palm towards them in as gesture of goodwill. Cyrene and her archers were still aiming their drawn bows towards the strangers though.  
  
"Rohan you said? We have been looking for this country and we ride in great  
  
hurry," said the stranger.  
  
Eomer spoke up to the man, "You have found it, as soon as you crossed the river you have entered Rohan, King Theoden's domain. And no one rides trough it without his permission. Who are you? Why are you riding in such a hurry?"  
  
"I am Halbarad Dúnadan, Ranger from the North and I am looking for Aragorn,  
  
son of Arathorn; we heard he was in Rohan. "  
  
Aragorn gave the reins of his horse to Merry and walked to the new arrival embracing him.  
  
"Halbarad, you have found him. Of all the joys I could have, this is the most unexpected!"  
  
He turned to the riders of Rohan. "These are my kinsmen from the land I used to live in. But about their reason for being here or their number, Halbarad will tell us."  
  
"Thirty men ride with me," said Halbarad, "as well as the brothers Elladan and Elrohir who wish to go to war. We came as soon as we received your summon, Aragorn"  
  
"But I didn't summon you .. except with my wishful thinking. Anyway, these questions will have to wait. We have to ride on, join our company, if the King allows it," said Aragorn.  
  
"If these men are your kin, Milord Aragorn, thirty of them are a force not to be measured by its number," said King Theoden.  
  
After that, the riders resumed their travel to Helm's Deep; Aragorn rode with the newcomers, his people, the Dunedain.  
  
Elrohir, one of the twin sons of Lord Elrond, spoke to Aragorn. "My father sends you a message. He said: 'the days are short, time is running out, remember the Path of the Dead´".  
  
Aragorn was silent for a short while. "I must think carefully and ponder my  
  
decisions. I will have to be desperate to take that path."  
  
**  
  
The riders reached the fortress of Helm's Deep at dawn. As soon as they arrived, Aragorn and Halbarad went up to a chamber in the highest tower. Isildur's Heir said he had to think about the next step to be taken.  
  
Gimli, Merry and Legolas made camp inside the fortress, enjoying a short rest while waiting for Aragorn's decision.  
  
Merry curled up in his cloak and slept. Gimli sat down and was smoking his pipe, observing Legolas, who sat with his back against the wall, his eyes lost in the distance. He was calm but Gimli could sense sorrow in his friend's demeanor. The reserved elf hadn't said a word about the choice he had made, but Gimli was no fool. Even though he did not know how Legolas' relationship with the spirited Amazon was coming along, he knew that they had come to a point where they would part from the Rohirrim Army and from Cyrene as well.  
  
Gimli spoke softly, knowing that Legolas would hear him, nevertheless. "She will understand your choice, my friend. Cyrene is also bound to her allegiance to Rohan. She is a warrior and a honorable woman, she will understand."  
  
Legolas turned to Gimli. "You are wise and your eyes see beyond what I thought I was showing, Gimli," he sighed. "I know she will understand. It is my heart that feels like being torn in two. I am not scared of the path we will take, even though men seem to be caught by fear by the mere thought of it. The only thing I fear right now is loosing her and live on wondering if she was the one fate chose for me. Her soul mirrors mine; she gives me peace and joy by only looking at me. May the Valar have mercy on us, my friend."  
  
**  
  
Meanwhile, among the Rohirrim on the other side of the fortress, the archer  
  
Dumetar had returned from his mission at the coast, carrying a message for Cyrene and the King.  
  
King Theoden summoned Cyrene to his tent, where an exhausted Dumetar was having wine and food after a whole day of hard riding back from his mission.  
  
Cyrene entered Theoden's tent, paid her respects to the king, and went to Dumetar, anxious to hear his news.  
  
"My friend, it is good to see you safely back!" she greeted the archer.  
  
Dumetar looked tired but well. "Captain, you will always be a joy to my eyes."  
  
Theoden sat across from where Dumetar was sitting and made a sign to the Amazon to sit down by them. "So, Dumetar, were you successful? Did you deliver your message?"  
  
"Yes Sire, I did. And this man who received the message had messenger pigeons. He sent a bird flying as soon as I arrived, and bid me to stay the night, in the hope of receiving the answer. And we did receive it in the morning. From then on I rode as hard as I could without breaking my mount. And here I am,  
  
Sire."  
  
"What is the answer, Dumetar? Will Queen Myrine send help?" asked Cyrene.  
  
Theoden was curious about Cyrene's anxiety. The archer's captain was usually reserved and calm. There was more to the matter than met the eye.  
  
Dumetar said. "I have the answer here, captain, but .I can't read it."  
  
He gave a piece of parchment to Cyrene, who gave it to the king with shaky hands. 'By the breath of the Goddess, Cyrene, get a hold on yourself' Cyrene chided herself.  
  
Theoden read the message and gave it to Cyrene. "Myrine will attend the summon of her allies. The Amazons will await you south from Dol Amroth, near the Bel-Falas at the next change of moon. You will lead them to Minas Tirith, Cyrene."  
  
Cyrene read the parchment herself and for a moment, she was oblivious of the King, Dumetar and where she was. The beloved handwriting . the signature, the royal seal . she felt for a second as if a hand was clenching her heart. And she was going to meet the Amazons and lead them into battle, like she had done a long time ago.  
  
She shook her head to clear it from those thoughts and focused on Theoden, who was watching her intently with wise eyes.  
  
"But you will have to ride hard, Cyrene, to reach the coast in time and lead them to Minas Tirith. Can you do this, my friend? Who will ride with you?"  
  
Dumetar stood up, "I will ride with you, captain, as soon as I find a new horse."  
  
Cyrene smiled to her friend. "No, Sire, I will ride alone, and take two horses and no provisions, except my weapons. I will leave within the hour," and she saluted the King, turning to leave.  
  
Theoden said, "I trust you, Cyrene, to accomplish this mission. I will be looking forward for your arrival in Minas Tirith."  
  
Cyrene turned to the king again. "I will not fail you, my King."  
  
**  
  
Cyrene picked two horses and prepared her gear. She decided she could not leave without a word to Gimli and Legolas and crossed the camp to where she  
  
thought she might find them.  
  
Gimli saw her first, since Legolas was still troubled and immersed in his own thoughts. "She seems to have guessed you were thinking about her, Legolas."  
  
Cyrene was clad in her full armor, except for the helmet she no longer possessed. The battle-axe was dangling from her waist, her sword sheathed at her back, her quiver full of arrows. She wasn't carrying her bow.  
  
Legolas and Cyrene met for the first time after the events by the river. He could not look at her without seeing her again in his arms writhing, flushed by pleasure. Cyrene looked at him and seemed to see herself in his eyes, blushing and shivering by the memories of his hands on her body. She got a grip on herself, approaching Gimli first.  
  
"I have come to bid you farewell, my friends. I am leaving for the coast and will be joining the battle in Minas Tirith."  
  
Gimli was surprised. "Are you leaving? Are the archers leaving with you?"  
  
"No, friend dwarf. I am leaving for the Anduin shores alone," said Cyrene.  
  
Legolas sprang up. "Cyrene, you cannot ride alone into the borders of Mordor."  
  
Cyrene's smile froze. "Legolas, my friend, I am leaving for the Anduin shores. I thought of wishing you luck for the remaining journey. We will meet in Minas Tirith. Take my word on it."  
  
Legolas felt fear for her and despair at the thought of her putting herself in danger. "Cyrene, please do not ride alone to the coast . I just can't bear the thought ."  
  
She crossed the space between them and tenderly brushed her knuckles to his  
  
cheek.  
  
"I promise we will meet again, Legolas. I never break my promises."  
  
The elf could not help himself, as he pulled her into his arms and kissed her fiercely, in front of Gimli, Merry, and a very annoyed Eomer who had come after Cyrene.  
  
********* 


	14. Chapter Fourteen: THE MARSHALL

Title: In the Midst of Adversity Author: Maram68 Rating: R  
  
Feedback: maram@zuper.net Please, I need to know if you like it, to keep on writing. So, please, R & R . I have a tough hide, criticism is welcome if it helps me to improve.  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own any of J.R.R. Tolkien's characters or settings, even if I love them as if they were my own. The idea and Cyrene are mine, only mine. Archive: Nowhere yet.  
  
Thank's for all the feedback so far .... those who have taken some time to review, YOU ROCK!!!  
  
************************************  
  
Chapter XIV.: The Marshall  
  
Eomer stopped in his tracks. He could not believe his own eyes. Legolas was  
  
holding elusive Cyrene, kissing her in front of all those in the camp who just cared to look their way.  
  
Eomer felt anger rising in him,-and betrayal burning in his veins-, as he saw the woman he wanted and had wooed being crushed by the arms of another man. And she obviously accepted it, since she had put her arms around the elf's waist.  
  
The Marshall of Rohan took a deep breath and turned, leaving the place with  
  
wide strides, trying to banish the images from his head and not to give in to the despair and pain throbbing inside of him.  
  
Cyrene had lost track of everything around them the instant Legolas' lips had touched hers. She was lost and she didn't want to find her way back into reality, enjoying the sensations he provoked and feeling cherished and safe in his arms. Cyrene was tempted to forget everything and just stay where she was, forever. But she couldn't, she had her duty and she had to leave soon. Sighing, she pushed herself away from Legolas. He released her mouth but didn't release her. "Cyrene ." he began.  
  
"Legolas, I will come back" she said, and after brushing her lips tenderly against his once again, she turned to leave. But she didn't. She stood rooted there for a moment , as both were now aware of all the people staring at them.  
  
The Amazon held her head up high, as she stepped to Gimli. She gave him a hug and a soft kiss on the rugged cheek, which made the dwarf blush furiously, and started to walk away to the horses she was riding into her journey.  
  
As she reached Eomer's tent to bid him farewell, the guard told her to look for her friend at the King's tent. She went there and ended up walking straight into a heated discussion between Theoden and the Marshall. To her amazement, she was the subject of the discussion. Neither heard her entering the tent.  
  
"Sire, you cannot allow her to ride alone!! It is a two and a half days ride until Dol Amroth and at least one more to Bel-Falas! And she will be riding into enemy territory. She will never make it to the Anduin-shores." Eomer was pledging with Theoden.  
  
The King looked into his nephew's eyes, "You seem to think I am blind to your feelings for her, Eomer. I am not. But believe me, if anyone can make this ride, it is Cyrene. There are no more alternatives. And she is also the only one who can accomplish bringing the help we need. Would you prefer to lose all chances we have to defeat the Dark Lord from Mordor?"  
  
Eomer's face showed his desperation. He had just heard of Cyrene's assignment from Dumetar, and had gone looking for her to convince her not to make the perilous ride. Then he had seen her with Legolas and, wishing to stop her from riding alone into the borders of Mordor, So he had come to talk to his uncle, hoping of convincing Theoden to call off his orders. He felt defeated. He had lost her heart and was now risking losing her. There was nothing left to do.  
  
"I thank you again, Sire, for your confidence in me," said Cyrene from the tent's entrance.  
  
Theoden and Eomer turned to her. Theoden's look softened and he smiled at her. Eomer's face was etched by pain. And she knew she was the cause of it.  
  
"I will leave within the hour, Sire. But if you allow it, I would like to speak with Lord Eomer before I leave, "- she continued.  
  
"By all means, captain. You shall speak to the Marshall. I have to speak to Lord Aragorn myself, to know what are his plans," and, after saying this, the king left them in his tent.  
  
Eomer could read Cyrene's face. Her concern for him was there, as well as her sisterly love and her sympathy. He felt the ground shake under his feet. He had lost. He hadn't even fought the battle and already he had lost.  
  
Cyrene approached him and took his hand. "You know I do not care for you as  
  
you do for me, Eomer. But it is better this way. I am not what you need, my  
  
brother. I am not the kind of woman you deserve."  
  
"But why do you give to the elf what you deny me, Cyrene?" he said, and the  
  
pain in his voice tore at the Amazon's soul.  
  
"Legolas and I shared a few special moments, Eomer, but there is no more to  
  
that. We share no commitments. And as soon as I leave it will be over," she  
  
explained. But as the words had left her mouth she felt like screaming that it wasn't true, that she would die remembering Legolas' touch and tenderness, and that it broke her heart and made her long for him and the feeling of belonging she had never felt before until she felt Legolas.  
  
Eomer read in her eyes her resolve and knew he had no chance. But he also knew that he cared too much about Cyrene, to risk the friendship she gave him. "Cyrene, this ride is too dangerous. Please don't do it on your own."  
  
She sighed loudly. This was going to be more difficult than she had ever imagined. She wanted to explain to Eomer that she was going to ride no matter what, when Theoden entered the tent, followed by Aragorn, Legolas, Elrohir and Elladan.  
  
"Cyrene will not ride alone through the long roads of the Sagrary, Eomer. Lord Aragorn and the Dunedain will fulfill the prophecy and ride the Paths of the Dead. And she will join them in order to reach the coast in time to meet the reinforcements she is meant to lead into battle," said the king.  
  
Eomer and Cyrene turned to look at the king, the Marshall with disbelief and Cyrene with confusion etched in their eyes. But both lowered their heads in  
  
acknowledgment of Theoden's orders.  
  
**  
  
The Dunedain, the elves, the dwarf and the Amazon were ready for the ride, that would lead them back to Edoras and from there through the Paths of the Dead, from where no living man had ever returned. But they would be lead by Isildur's heir, and the prophecy said that he would not only survive the ride but also be able to awake the army of the dead to defend his heritage.  
  
Merry was staying behind with Theoden. Aragorn had convinced him that he would be more useful with the Rohirrim than on a hard ride through the perilous passages of the Sagrary.  
  
Eomer approached Cyrene, who was ready to mount up. "Tell Eowyn we will be meeting shortly in Edoras and give her my love. Take care, my sister. And fulfill your mission, Amazon. I will meet you in Minas Tirith"  
  
"I will, my brother. As long as there is any breath left in my body, I will be there. You have my word as a warrior." And knowing that it might be the last time they saw each other, Cyrene embraced Eomer, who held her close to his heart.  
  
Legolas watched the embrace feeling jealousy's bite. But he said nothing as he helped Gimli up on the horse and mounted up in front of his friend.  
  
They started a long and hard ride towards Edoras.  
  
Cyrene and the others rode harder and faster than Theoden and the Rohirrim, for the King was raising troops along the way. Throughout the ride, Legolas kept looking back to Cyrene, but she seemed to be distracted by her own thoughts  
  
When they reached the city, Legolas and Gimli were riding next to Aragorn, while Cyrene had fallen behind, riding on her own right in front of the Dunedain.  
  
The moment they got to the city, though, Cyrene rode past them through the city gates and jumped from her horse to embrace her friend Eowyn that was awaiting them on the foot of the stairs of Meduseld castle.  
  
Eowyn was swept into the fierce hug of her friend and felt like laughing.  
  
"My sister, it is so good to see you again! I heard about the victory at Helm's Deep and was wondering when you would be coming back. My brother and uncle, are they well?"  
  
"Yes, Eowyn, they are well and will reach the castle tomorrow. I am riding with Lord Aragorn and his rangers on an assignment to the coast. How have you been? You look well, my sister!" said Cyrene.  
  
By then the others had arrived at the castle. Eowyn walked to Aragorn and bowed before him. He greeted her likewise.  
  
"Welcome back in Edoras, Lord Aragorn. Though I had little time to prepare for your arrival, I already gave orders to have quarters for you and your men. Rest, and dinner will be ready shortly."  
  
"I thank you for your kind efforts, Lady Eowyn, but we will leave in the morrow. We will ride from the Sagrary on to the Paths of the Dead."  
  
Eowyn went pale. Since the Rohirrim had come to Rohan, many centuries ago, there had been a legend about the cursed Paths of the Dead, from where no living soul ever returned. And Aragorn was going to ride with his men and Cyrene into that damned trail? That was not possible. "But Lord Aragorn, you know that no living creature has ever returned from there, you cannot mean to ride into certain death!"  
  
Aragorn smiled sadly at the concern he saw in Eowyn's beautiful eyes. "Milady, we will ride through them and come back, do not fret for us. For it is my destiny to be the one who will survive the journey and I would never lead men and women who entrusted their lives to me into their doom. "  
  
Eowyn blushed, for she recognized she had doubted his leadership in front of his own men. "Forgive me, Milord, I forgot my place. Please enter the castle and rest, for you will need strength for the journey ahead of you. Your dinner will be served shortly."  
  
As the company of the Dunedain, Aragorn, Gimli and the Elves walked up the stairs, Legolas noticed that Cyrene was nowhere to be seen.  
  
**  
  
Since the Dunedain were silent by nature, they shared a placid dinner, served by the Rohirrim women, Eowyn and Cyrene. They seemed not to worry about the journey ahead of them, and as such enjoyed the moment, by sharing a good meal in a pleasant place.  
  
Legolas kept looking to Cyrene, who was serving wine to the guests. She was  
  
clad in a light green gown, her hair held together at the nape of her neck by an ebony-clasp, flowing from there down her back.  
  
He had seen her dressed in womanly clothes before, even though it seemed to  
  
have happened a very long time ago, but it was as if he was seeing her for the first time.  
  
And when his eyes met hers, for a moment Legolas thought That Cyrene seemed uncomfortable, but soon she smiled at him. Cyrene served him wine, and as he reached for the goblet, their fingers met briefly. She pulled her hand away and left the room.  
  
  
  
"What is wrong with Cyrene?" wondered Legolas as he walked out to the castle's garden after dinner. All his companions had retired for the night. But he was restless, confused and lost when it came to his feelings regarding the Amazon. After they had kissed in Helm's Deep, he had been sure she reciprocated his  
  
feelings. When he had seen her with Eomer again, he hadn't been very comfortable with the situation, but decided to wait until a proper occasion to talk with Cyrene about it. But when she had avoided him during the whole journey, at least so far, and now even running from him at dinner, Legolas was starting to doubt his judgment. Maybe she didn't want anything to do with him anymore. Maybe she had realized she loved Eomer. Or maybe, just maybe, Cyrene had decided that she wasn't ready for a relationship with any male. This thought almost broke his heart. Legolas knew he had fallen badly for Cyrene, and the possibility that she might not return his feelings hurt him deep.  
  
He was so engrossed in his thoughts, that he never heard the one stalking him. And he was really caught by surprise by the person that stepped out of the dark and threw him against a tree trunk. 


	15. Chapter Fifteen: ONE NIGHT

Title: In the Midst of Adversity Author: Maram68 (Claudia) Rating: R  
  
Feedback: maram@zuper.net Please, I need to know if you like it, to keep on writing. So, please, R & R . I have a tough hide, criticism is welcome if it helps me to improve.  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own any of J.R.R. Tolkien's characters or settings, even if I love them as if they were my own. The idea and Cyrene are mine, only mine. Archive: Nowhere yet.  
  
Thank's for all the feedback so far .... those who have taken some time to review, YOU ROCK!!! I wish to thank again my wonderful beta Deb and all of you who encourage me to keep on writing !!!!! Thank you!!!! ************************************  
  
Chapter XV: One Night  
  
For a second, Legolas thought that he was being attacked. After that first second though, the scent of jasmine and orange blossom filled his nostrils. A soft mouth was kissing him, while a supple body was molding itself to his frame. His arms closed around the woman's body, her presence settling into his conscience. Cyrene.  
  
When their lips parted for breathing, Cyrene's husky voice whispered. "You are hard to find, Legolas. And we don't have much time before dawn."  
  
Legolas felt joy and excitement making his blood run faster. "You were looking for me, amaelamin? I thought you were fleeing from me, by the way you left the King's Hall at dinner."  
  
He could see her blush in the dim moonlight. "Legolas, you have a very profound effect on me. I would most likely have poured the wine over you if I had stayed." The elf felt like laughing. She was here, in his arms, speaking to him with the ease of a well-known lover. The images of the night by the river came back into his mind. They were not lovers. He had given her pleasure and had made love to her, but they were not lovers. He closed his eyes, to gain control over the urge to lay her down right there, on the garden's ground, and make love to her, make her writhe beneath him and forget everything else around them.  
  
Cyrene could read his thoughts in his dark blue eyes when he reopened them. They made a warm feeling crawl down her spine and she shivered. She smiled, even though she was still battling with herself about the decision she had reached. But deep down she knew she wanted it with all of her heart. She wanted to give him the same gift he had given her. She wanted to reach for the amazing sensations he had shown her, but this time sharing them with him. This wouldn't be a matter of surrender but of completion. Cyrene needed to joining with Legolas as she needed air for breathing.  
  
She retreated from his embrace and saw the immediate disappointment in his eyes. She took his hand. "Follow me, Legolas. The moon is high and we do not have all night to linger here much."  
  
Legolas was not sure what to expect, but he let her guide him back to the castle. She was still clad in the gown she was wearing at dinner and its fabric flowed down her body, clinging to her breasts and hips. How could he have been so blind when he saw her the first time? She was beautiful. But she had not caught his attention with her beauty, but with her spirit and courage.  
  
Cyrene led him through the side corridors to a chamber in the main tower. It was her chamber.  
  
The fire was blazing high in the chimney, and in front of it a bear- fur lay on the floor. Cyrene closed the door behind them and lead him by the hand towards the fire. There, she reached up, closing her arms around his neck and kissing him, hard.  
  
Legolas crushed her against his chest and explored her mouth, tasting her, loosing himself in her sweetness. He wanted this woman more than anything he had wanted before.  
  
He felt her hands on the fastenings of his tunic, unclasping them. He let go of her mouth and looked at her questioning her actions. She continued undoing the fastenings, and then the lacings of his shirt. Cyrene kept looking him straight in the eyes, while her hands were shedding away his clothes.  
  
The Amazon's hands went to the waistband of his leggings, and Legolas took her hands in his, lifting them to his lips. "Cyrene, is this what you want?" he asked huskily.  
  
She sighed and nodded. "Yes, Legolas. You gave me a precious gift; I want to share it with you. You promised me that we would soar together, remember?"  
  
Legolas smiled and his smile touched Cyrene's heart. She undid the fastenings of her gown and it slid to the ground, as did the thin shift she wore beneath. She stood there, naked, proud, the light of the fire reflecting the smooth honey-colored skin. The elf stepped closer to her and kissed her, while he lifted her in his arms and lowered her on the fur in front of the chimney. Her hands were exploring his chest, his shoulders, light as feathers. Once she was on the fur, he kneeled next by her side looking at her. Her eyes roamed over him as well, drinking in the marvelous sight of his sun- kissed skin, his golden hair and the deep pools that were his eyes. His lust for her, and a deeper feeling Cyrene was afraid to perceive as love, were very plain on his face ; his gorgeous and muscular body was lit by the golden glow of the fire. Cyrene had never thought a male to be handsome before, but Legolas was a feast for the eyes, and his presence was like water for her thirsty soul.  
  
She needed him. She wanted him. And he was hers, at least for this night.  
  
Legolas moved slowly, enjoying every inch of her body. He wanted her, more than ever. But he knew they might never again have a night like this, and hesitated for a quick moment.  
  
"Legolas, I want to feel your body next to mine, all of it, please," Cyrene said, encouraging Legolas.  
  
And he complied, taking off his leggings and boots, he stretched along her body, worshipping her with his hands and lips, kissing her neck, her collarbone, avoiding her breasts, which were perking up towards his mouth, leaving fiery trails on her ribcage and belly, while she was caressing his arms, his back, the base of his spine, his buttocks. And then her fingers were following his hipbone. When her hand closed around his hardened manhood, Legolas breathed in sharply. Taking her hands in his, he held them to the sides of her body, while he started to softly lick his way up to her breasts.  
  
Cyrene felt trapped and exposed, weak and lost at the same time. But she trusted him, and knew that he would take her into unbelievable heights, as he had done once before. She just wanted to touch him, feel him, and be joined with him. When she felt him delving his tongue in her bellybutton, she arched up to meet his mouth.  
  
"Legolas, please, I want to . I need . you ."  
  
The elf was almost at the end of his tether. This woman had this strange but more than welcome effect on him.  
  
"Cyrene, I will hurt you, at first, so I will go as slowly as I can ."  
  
Cyrene released her hands from his and framed his face with them. "Legolas, I want this, I want you, now. Show me, teach me, and make us both soar."  
  
Legolas saw into her amber eyes and smiled, seeing his own lust mirrored by hers. He kissed her while slowly, ever so slowly, he guided himself carefully into her. She was tight and the feel of her made him almost lose control. She closed her yes, as if to memorize the sensations running through her. This was more than she had imagined. They were actually merging into one body, and the heat building inside of her was increasing. But she wanted more. And as she surged up against him, he drove through her maidenhead. Cyrene didn't mind the discomfort, because she needed him sorely. So she drove up until he was fully sheathed in her.  
  
She gasped softly; feeling Legolas' questioning gaze upon her, she smiled. Her body had adjusted all too quickly to the sensation of him inside her and for a fleeting moment Cyrene wondered why her people were normally so opposed to this kind of relationship with men, beyond its meaning for procreation.  
  
She didn't feel like she had been invaded, it was more like a joining, a joining of body and soul. She closed her eyes and purred softly when Legolas began to move within her, and her body, although not used to the slow erotic dance of love, adjusted quickly.  
  
Cyrene's mind wandered, the strong grip she normally had on her mind, her thoughts, and her whole being washed away by the sensations that were sweeping over her, sensations she was sure Legolas was experiencing with her. She felt herself soar high, higher than when he had pleasured her before at the river, and yet she felt elated, not afraid.  
  
Legolas was trembling with the effort. He was putting all his weight on his stretched arms on both sides of her. He didn't want to hurt her, but she was moving on her own. He knew he wouldn't be able to hold off much longer, as he lowered himself on her body and kissed her deeply, while his hand traveled between their joined bodies and caressed her core.  
  
Cyrene moved toward his hand, feeling him retreat and enter her once and again, while he was taking her higher and higher on the spiral of pleasure rising inside of her.  
  
They reached their peak together, and Legolas name was nothing but a whisper as Cyrene's breath broke. The elf held her close as his seed spilled into her womb, breathing soft elvish love words into her ear. He rolled to his side with Cyrene in his arms, still throbbing inside of her.  
  
She held tightly to him, listening to his heartbeat and enjoying a feeling she had not felt for a very long time, ever since she had left Artemis' Island. Breathing his scent and feeling his warmth around her body, while he was still a part of her, she suddenly understood why the amazons did not want their warriors to bond with males. Cyrene had to swallow tears away, for she felt as if she belonged to him, she felt at home. **  
  
They had made love tenderly again and once more, as if they were famished of each other. They watched as the first rays of sunlight tinted the horizon, still in each other's arms. Cyrene rose, kissed Legolas' lips and walked to get her clothing.  
  
Legolas observed her, while she was putting her battle gear on. His eyes fell on a small tattoo her left shoulder blade, a tattoo that he had discovered during the night.  
  
"What is that tattoo on your shoulder, amaelamin?" he said, walking over to her and caressing the black drawing etched in her skin.  
  
Cyrene didn't look up from the lacings from her leggings, as she shrugged and said. "It is the sign of my family, a crescent moon on an ivy leaf. It was made a long time ago, after I survived my first battle."  
  
She reached for her vest, but Legolas kissed the tattoo, and drew her into a tight embrace. " I feel your sorrow for your home and your people, Cyrene. "  
  
The elf could see far too much into her. She fought the urge of pushing him away, but instead burrowed deeper into his chest. "There is nothing to be done about that, Legolas. Now we must prepare for a dark journey and a hard battle. I only want to thank you for sharing this night with me."  
  
Legolas smiled sadly. "It is me who thanks you for the gift of your trust and your friendship, amaelamin."  
  
He kissed her lips, and let her go. He began gathering his own clothes.  
  
They would leave soon for the Paths of the Dead.  
  
*********************** 


	16. Chapter Sixteen: EOWYN

Title: In the Midst of Adversity Author: Maram68 (Claudia) Rating: R  
  
Feedback: maram@zuper.net Please, I need to know if you like it, to keep on writing. So, please, R & R . I have a tough hide, criticism is welcome if it helps me to improve.  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own any of J.R.R. Tolkien's characters or settings, even if I love them as if they were my own. The idea and Cyrene are mine, only mine. Archive: Nowhere yet.  
  
Thank's for all the feedback so far .... those who have taken some time to review, YOU ROCK!!! I wish to thank again my wonderful beta Deb and all of you who encourage me to keep on writing !!!!! Thank you!!!!  
  
************************************  
  
Chapter XVI: Eowyn  
  
It had been a very long night for Eowyn. A night spent thinking and pondering, trying to sort out her way through the stormy thoughts plaguing her. She had been even reluctant to talk to Cyrene about them, whom she considered a sister, but she had finally made up her mind.  
  
As far as she could remember, since her mother had died, and she had been very young when that had happened, Eowyn had been the lady of the castle.  
  
Theoden loved her as the daughter he never had. Theodred and Eomer loved her even more, if possible, for she had always been by their side, to look after their needs and offering sound advice if needed. She was the White Lady of Rohan, the Jewel of the Mark's Crown. Eowyn had been educated as a lady, but also taught in the ways of warfare and the use of weapons, for the evil Lord from Mordor had been a threat to Rohan even before the reign of Eorl the Young.  
  
Before Cyrene's arrival at Edoras, she had been insecure about her prowess with weapons, since no man in Meduseld would really challenge the lady of the castle in practice. But she knew that she was equal to the Amazon in fight, and that meant as equal as any man of the Rohirrim army.  
  
She had seen her uncle leaving her in charge of Edoras as an honor and a great responsibility, both of which she had been born to assume. But know she needed more. Eowyn wanted to ride into battle.  
  
When Aragorn had told her about him riding the Paths of the Dead, she knew her time had come. She would prove herself worthy of her heritage and defend Rohan.  
  
By all the gods, she was a shield maiden, trained to fight side by side with the Rohirrim, as had many warrior women of her lineage done before her. She was  
  
direct descendant of Eorl .. and her sire as noble as Aragorn's himself.  
  
When she thought about the handsome and melancholic Lord of Gondor sleeping under her same roof, her pulse went faster and warmth spread all over her body. She had dreamt about him, the savior of Middle Earth, the one foretold by the prophecies to defeat Sauron and redeem Isildur's betrayal of the Last Alliance. Eowyn imagined herself riding by his side into the battlefield, defeating the hordes of orcs and bringing peace to their Kingdoms.  
  
But Cyrene had been right. Aragorn's heart had been given away before he ever set foot in Edoras. An her dreams were only that, childish dreams of an infatuated girl. She was too proud to seek his attention.  
  
However she would seek his acquiescence for riding with them to the Paths of the Dead. If they survived, it was a heroic feat about which there would be songs and tales to be told to the next generations. And Eowyn had no doubt that if anybody could achieve this feat, it would be Aragorn.  
  
The final battle was approaching, and Eowyn swore to herself to be there no  
  
matter the cost.  
  
Shortly before sunrise, the White Lady of Rohan washed her face, braided her golden hair and wore her battle gear, from the shiny silver chain mail to the high winged helmet forged especially for her. Her light sword and a dagger completed her outfit. She was ready to face her first battle. She had to convince Aragorn to let her join him and the Dunedain on their ride.  
  
***  
  
As Aragorn stepped out of his quarters, he saw the soldier standing in the corridor and acknowledged him with a curt nod. Then he looked again, for the soldier had stepped forward and laid a hand on his arm. He did not recognize Eowyn at first sight. But as close as she was standing to him, he recognized the bright sky-blue eyes. This was not a young soldier, but the Lady of Rohan.  
  
"Lady Eowyn, may I be of service to you?"  
  
"Lord Aragorn, it is not your service I seek but to offer you mine. My sword and my ability to fight. I wish to join you and your men, Lord Aragorn. I am ready to defend Rohan and go into battle " said the young blonde woman.  
  
Aragorn closed his eyes. The look in Eowyn's blue orbs was almost too much to bear, especially at a this moment. He had not slept a single minute, the thought of the responsibility he was carrying on his shoulders too much to bear to grant him any rest. He had been brooding all night , and decided to face his doubts and conquer them before the sunrise would be the very first test to his true heritage. He was weary and sad , but determined to face the challenge and overcome it.  
  
Eowyn's look spoke of courage, determination and love. Aragorn knew that Eowyn's virginal love was set on him and it hurt him to know he would have to crush her illusions.  
  
"Milady, this is absolutely out of the question. I will not allow you to ride with us. It is a perilous journey and ." he saw her stance straighten and her chin lifted stubbornly.  
  
"I am well aware of the perils you will confront, Milord Aragorn. I am not a silly child. I am well prepared to face them."  
  
"Eowyn, you cannot convince me. You are young and brave, you should not be putting your life at stake on this . you are very valuable holding up Edoras. We need you to secure our backs ." Aragorn saw Eowyn's face loose it's color, but she would not give up. And the way she looked at him, with adoration . this was not meant to be. "You ought to also find a better man to place your affections upon, Milady."  
  
Eowyn had not said a word to him about her feelings. But Cyrene had said there were plain to see. She felt foolish and blushed imagining how dumb and childish she seemed to him.  
  
"Aragorn, this has nothing to do with my . affection towards you. I will not stay behind when the fate of Rohan and all of Middle Earth will be decided in battle. I deserve to fight for my life and the life of my people . do not deny me that!" she pleaded.  
  
"Forgive me my lady, but I will not have you join me and the company on this ride. May the gods be with you Eowyn, for you are truly a noble daughter of  
  
Rohan and deserve all the gifts from the gods upon your way," saying this Aragorn saluted her and turned to leave. He only heard the faint rustle of steel against leather as Eowyn draw her sword and as fast as lightning put the blade to his throat, blocking his way out. "You will not walk out on me, Milord. Not without even giving me a chance to prove myself to you."  
  
Aragorn draw Anduril out of it's scabbard and assumed a defensive stance. Maybe if he could disarm Eowyn, the girl would understand she didn't belong on the battlefield.  
  
Eowyn took one step forward and her stroke was parried by Aragorn who swiftly stroked back. Eowyn moved lightly to the side, parrying the blow as well. Aragorn saw that it was not going to be as easy as he had thought, and straightened his stance, studying Eowyn's moves to find a weakness in her fencing technique. He could not.  
  
They kept on fencing, the loud clashing of the swords attracting the attention of the guests and inhabitants of Meduseld. Both moved lightly, gracefully almost as dancers. Aragorn was annoyed and admired at the same time.  
  
Eowyn calculated her moves, holding out for the strength coming from her desperation at Aragorn's rejection, both as a woman and as a warrior.  
  
Among the last who joined the bystanders watching the fight were Legolas and Cyrene.  
  
The Amazon recognized her friend at once. She had seen Aragorn fighting and  
  
also knew Eowyn to be a formidable warrior, but she also knew the girl couldn't win. For Aragorn was holding her heart.  
  
One of King Theoden's maidservants appeared and let out a small cry at recognizing her mistress. The cry was enough to distract Eowyn and Aragorn disarmed her with an masterful twist of Anduril's blade, sending Eowyn's sword away from her reach.  
  
Eowyn stood in front of him, breathing hard , and she took her helmet off. Her face was a mask of pride and pain, while unshed tears pooled in her blue eyes.  
  
Aragorn saluted her with his blade. "You are indeed an amazing fighter, Lady Eowyn. But I cannot let you accompany us. The responsibility of your welfare lies in the hands of your kin, fair lady. You will make any king a great queen . May the Gods keep you safe, Eowyn of Rohan."  
  
Then, Isildur's heir turned on his heel and walked away.  
  
***  
  
Cyrene sent the servants away and approached her friend. She didn't hug her, but stood in front of Eowyn and saluted her bowing her head and putting her  
  
closed fist over her heart. A warriors salute.  
  
Eowyn bent her head. She felt spent, rejected and worthless.  
  
Cyrene kneeled down, picked up the fallen sword and gave it to Eowyn.  
  
"I'll be waiting for you at Minas Tirith. It will be an honor to fight at your side, sister," said the Amazon gravely.  
  
"I will be there, Cyrene, you have my promise" Eowyn answered, gripping Cyrene's forearm.  
  
Cyrene turned and left, while Eowyn sheathed her sword and returned to her chamber to wash her tear-stained face. She still had to bid the travelers farewell. She was the Lady of Rohan, and she had to fulfill what was expected of her as such. 


	17. Chapter Seventeen: FEAR AND TRUST

Title: In the Midst of Adversity Author: Maram68 (Claudia) Rating: R  
  
Feedback: maram@zuper.net  
  
Chapter XVII: Fear and Trust  
  
Legolas helped Gimli up on his horse and turned to see Cyrene mounting up as well. Further away, Aragorn was speaking to the Dunedain.  
  
Eowyn approached Aragorn, with a cup from which she drank a sip before handing it over to Aragorn. He took the cup and drank from it. Then he gave it back to her, saying "Farewell, Lady of Rohan. I drink to your house's prosperity, to you and to all of your people. Tell this to your brother: May it be that beyond the shadows we will meet again!"  
  
Legolas and Gimli, who stood next to Aragorn, saw tears gather in Eowyn's eyes, but she blinked them quickly away.  
  
"So you leave, Aragorn," she held her head up and said "I beg you for a last time: let me join your company and fulfill my destiny. My place is on the field, defending my people's lands and lives. Take me with you, Lord Aragorn, I will bow to you". She started to bend in order to kneel before him, but Aragorn took her hand, holding Eowyn up, and kissed her slender fingers.  
  
"I cannot let you ride with us, Eowyn. You must seek your uncle and brother's permission. They will arrive here tomorrow. We will meet again, brave Lady of Rohan." And after saying this Aragorn quickly mounted up and rode away. Only those who knew him well saw the pain in his features, for he had been forced to reject all the courage and love in the proud White Lady of the Rohirrim. Legolas and Gimli saluted Eowyn as they rode by her, as did the Dunedain and Elrond's sons, in tribute to her bravery.  
  
Cyrene rode up to Eowyn and dismounted, approaching her best friend.  
  
"Your time hasn't come yet, my sister. I will wait for you. My heart stays with yours, Eowyn." And while she said this, Cyrene pulled the crescent moon medallion she wore around her neck and put it in Eowyn's hand. " Artemis will guide you, my sister."  
  
Then she embraced Eowyn one last time and mounted up, galloping after the Gray Company.  
  
The Lady of Rohan stood there, holding the Amazon's medallion to her heart and looking after the riders until they disappeared from her sight, while she softly whispered, " I will be there, Cyrene. By the Gods, I will join you soon."  
  
**  
  
The ominous shadow of the black mountain of Dwimor loomed over the riders, as they approached it on their ride to the entrance to the Paths of the Dead.  
  
They rode closer to the haunted mountain, crossing the Dark Forest, where the horses refused to move and the riders had to dismount and lead the beasts by the bridle.  
  
They reached a stonewall where a Dark Door was set, black as the night. On it were ancient signs and figures engraved, too blurry to be read.  
  
Fear streamed from the door like gray smoke.  
  
The gray company stopped. Only Legolas and Elrond's sons remained calm, as they did not fear the ghosts of men, while all the men's hearts sunk, gripped in the icy claws of terror.  
  
Aragorn led the way into the darkness, his loyal horse following his lead, and so did the Dunedain, leading their mounts into the terrifying depths. Only Arod, Legolas' Rohan horse, and Cyrene's mare balked at the entrance. Both horses stood sweating and trembling, caught in terror.  
  
Legolas' laid his hands on Arod's eyes and chanted softly some elvish words. Arod let the elf guide him inside the gate.  
  
Outside, Gimli felt his knees shaking and was furious at himself. He saw Cyrene busy with her horse, and didn't want to show the fear he felt wringing his heart. He gathered all his resolve and entered the gate. The dwarf felt his feet heavy as lead, as a sudden blindness fell over him and Gimli, son of Gloin, was trembling like a leaf, but he forced himself to move on.  
  
Outside the gate, Cyrene was trying to calm her mount, with no success. For she was struggling for control herself.  
  
Her mare felt her mistress trembling hands and smelled the cold sweat on Cyrene's skin. And the horse stood by the Amazon, both caught up in panic, unable to move.  
  
She had felt fear seeping through her clothes, her skin, into her very bones from the moment they had passed the black rock. Cyrene had never felt anything like that in her whole life.  
  
The terror was dragging her down, she didn't dare to move, and she felt numb and icy cold. And she couldn't fight it. Cyrene felt anger growing in her, at her being powerless to overcome the panic that took over her body and soul. She had faced demons, monsters and magic before, but she was now helplessly raging with herself just to control her body and follow the other riders.  
  
"Goddess, give me strength, don't let my courage falter!" she prayed, while she made an effort to calm her shaking limbs and ragged breath, but to no avail. Tears of rage fell down her cheeks. She had failed her people, failed Rohan, the quest, and Legolas.  
  
Cyrene didn't hear the light steps behind her or feel him approaching until his hands gently touched her shoulders. And Cyrene let go of her warrior's pride, letting Legolas gather her in his arms.  
  
Legolas hadn't expected Cyrene to be affected by the Paths of the Death, but he had sensed that something was very wrong when he looked back to the last members of the company and, while Gimli had forced himself inside the mountain cave, there was no sign of Cyrene or her horse. He had been worried, had given his horse's bridle to Elrohir and, leaving Elladan to watch over his friend Gimli, walked back to the entrance.  
  
When he saw her standing by her horse, his first thought was that she couldn't persuade the mare to enter the dark pit. Then he noticed her slumped shoulders, the way her body was shaking and the cold sweat on her skin. And it tore at his heart.  
  
Cyrene felt the warmth of Legolas body slowly permeating her body, his heartbeat easing the hollow sensation that engulfed her. She straightened up in his arms, and managed to smile at him.  
  
"I am well Legolas. But very ashamed that you had to come for me", she said softly.  
  
He put a finger on her lips to silence her.  
  
"There is no shame between us, amaelamin. Whenever you feel weak, I will help you up. I know you will be there for me when I require your strength."  
  
Cyrene looked into his eyes and felt warmth spread all over her body. She would not disappoint him, not on her life.  
  
Slowly, very slowly, they lead the mare inside the cave, Legolas' chanting in elvish to sooth both Cyrene and the horse. She led the mare holding the bridle with her left hand. Legolas' hand was closed over her hand, and he walked on the opposite side of the horse.  
  
The Amazon's breathing was steadier and she made the effort to walk inside the cave, even though her feet felt heavy and the darkness and feeling of despair still weighed her down. Forcing herself to forget her surroundings and trying to keep her instinct warning about danger ahead of them, Cyrene kept on walking, gathering strength from the hand holding hers.  
  
**  
  
Once they reached the gray company, Legolas looked over to Cyrene to see if she was well. She gave him a weak smile and he squeezed gently her hand, smiling back. Then, he let her hand go and walked up to Elrohir who still held Arod's bridle.  
  
Gimli was standing near to Elladan, but he had stubbornly refused to move until Legolas and Cyrene arrived.  
  
As the Amazon's and the dwarf's eyes met, they both knew that they had been both overwhelmed beyond their power, and that knowledge gave both strength to endure together more of the darkness that was weighing heavily upon them.  
  
Both knew that even though Legolas walked by them and encouraged them silently to continue, the elf didn't understand their suffering. They felt the sadness of the hundreds of lost souls wandering in the unholy place, the cold grip of fear, not of the darkness but of the presence they felt closing on them in the blackness that fell behind?, as they passed with the torches. The army of Isildur's forsworn warriors were at their heels, following the company. Cyrene and Gimli walked side by side, dragging their feet, trembling still, both drawing strength from each other's company and silent understanding. Cyrene's hand lay on Gimli's shoulder, and the dwarf patted it from time to time. They were both warriors facing their weakness, fighting it one step at a time.  
  
After many never-ending hours of walking in the maddening darkness, the eerie murmur of the Army of the Dead filling their ears, the Gray Company reached the exit of the cavern.  
  
Never before had the sound of running water felt so good to Cyrene's ears as it did in that moment. Water was life, and the sound of the stream gave her a last push forwards, escaping the thick atmosphere surrounding them.  
  
They crossed a high stone arcade There was some weak daylight upon Middle Earth that gave the exhausted riders a feeling of leaving hell behind. If it wasn't for the dark presence of the Forsworn Warriors at their back, they would have rested by the stream, but they felt the Army of the dead closing in on them, restless.  
  
Aragorn mounted up and turned to his companions, "Forget your fatigue, my friends! Ride on now, ride hard, for it is our duty to reach the Stone of Erech before the end of the day and the road ahead is long."  
  
The Dunedain mounted up, as did Elladan and Elrohir. Legolas helped Gimli onto Arod's saddle and stopped by Cyrene, who was leaning into her mare, before mounting up herself.  
  
Cyrene felt his presence, it was stronger than the eerie sensation of the specters behind them. He gave her warmth and made her heart lighter by the slightest touch. When she turned to him a smile came to her lips naturally, even after the worst trip she had ever endured in her life.  
  
Legolas was worried, for he had seen Gimli almost break down under the strain of the ordeal and Cyrene had been as much affected by the cavern as the dwarf.  
  
But as she looked at him and gave him a tired smile, he felt a smile come to his lips as well. He helped her up on the mare, and his hands lingered a moment longer than necessary on her waist. Her hand caressed lightly his cheek and she leant forward on her mount, giving him a soft kiss.  
  
The elf whispered ,"Are you well, amaelamin?" Cyrene nodded, whispering back, " With your and Gimli's support , I overcame this trial. I will not fail you again, Legolas."  
  
"You could never fail me, brave Cyrene," answered Legolas, returning then to Arod. He could feel the Army of the Dead approaching and they had to leave at once.  
  
**  
  
The Gray Company galloped through the Valley of Morthond, riding through fields and plains, through villages and rivers, but no one dared to look upon them. Bells rang and there were terrified cries among the humans that announced that the King of the Dead had returned. All windows and doors were locked and not a human soul saw them riding by.  
  
At midnight, the horses were stumbling with exhaustion as they reached the Stone of Erech. Aragorn dismounted by the rounded stone and received from Elrohir a silver horn. He blew into it and the Company heard responding horns echoing in distant caverns . There were no other sounds in the air, besides the tired snorting from the horses and the heavy breathing of the men. The heavy presence of an enormous army gathering around the hill could be felt, and the icy wind blowing from the mountains was the chilly breath of a legion of ghosts. Aragorn stood by the stone and called out with a commanding voice: " Forsworn, why have you come here?"  
  
And in the depth of the night was a distant voice that answered, " To fulfill the oath and find peace at last".  
  
Aragorn commanded then. " The time has come at last. I will ride to Pelargir and you will ride with me, And when all servants of Sauron have disappeared from this land , I will consider your oath as fulfilled and then you will have peace and may part forever. I am Elessar, the Heir of Isildur of Gondor".  
  
After saying this, he told Halbarad to unfold the banner he had brought which was completely black. If there was any crest on it, it could not be seen. At once there was deep silence around them, not even a murmur or a sigh was heard for the rest of what would be a long night.  
  
The company camped close to the stone even though the travelers, terrified by the ghosts surrounding them, didn't sleep.  
  
Only Cyrene, the Amazon, who lay down next to Legolas and Gimli, found some rest. The elf held her close to him and the steady sound of his heart and his soothing presence lulled her into slumber.  
  
**  
  
By the pale light of the cold dawn, Aragorn rose and guided the company on a hard and strenuous ride that no other mortal would have endured towards Mordor.  
  
The land they crossed was deserted, for all living beings had run away from the approaching Army of Ghosts.  
  
By nightfall they camped in Calembel, and Aragorn walked up to were Cyrene, Gimli and Legolas were camping.  
  
Aragorn's weathered features were haggard and pale, the weight of his mission weighing on his shoulders. But Cyrene had never seen a more regal leader of men in her life, and she admired the strength in Aragorn's spirit.  
  
"You should part from the company tomorrow at midday, in Ethring, so that you may continue your ride to Belfalas, Cyrene ", he told the Amazon.  
  
Cyrene nodded. She had been anticipating this moment. She had to ride on to meet the amazons and lead them into battle against Sauron.  
  
***** 


	18. Chapter Eighteen: THE OCEAN

Title: In the Midst of Adversity Author: Maram68 (Claudia) Rating: R  
  
Feedback: maram@zuper.net  
  
Chapter XVIII: The Ocean  
  
"The dark of the night had barely began to raise, the first sounds of the new day hadn't begun yet, but the Gray Company was already on their feet, anticipating the sun. Cyrene turned to Aragorn, "I will part soon, milord. Time is of essence."  
  
Aragorn looked into Cyrene's pale face. The strong woman was showing the extent of the ordeal she had suffered in the Paths of the Dead. He admired her, however he felt responsible for those he was leading on the difficult journey.  
  
"Cyrene, you deserve my highest regard for your bravery and battle skills. I'm aware that you not only can fend for yourself but you are also a valuable asset to the army of Rohan. You excel the best archers I have ever seen, except maybe Legolas , but I do not wish for you to travel alone."  
  
Cyrene's head went sharply up, her chin lifted in defiance. "Milord Aragorn, as much as I respect you, as a man, a warrior, and a leader, I have my orders and my only liege is Theoden of Rohan."  
  
Aragorn sighed. "I am aware of that too, Cyrene. But do believe me when I say that I do not wish for you to travel alone because you are a female. If you were one of my men, you would not travel alone. We are on enemy's land now. "  
  
"Milord, if you think less of me because of what happened in the Paths of the Dead ...." she started saying.  
  
Aragorn put his hand over hers. "No, Cyrene, I do not think less of you ...I have seen the same fear in the eyes of the Dunedain and the Riders of Rohan. And I have every faith in you, but in these times I will not send any one, and I mean anyone of my men out there alone, be it human, Amazon or Elf. You will ride with company or not at all."  
  
Legolas stood up next to Cyrene. "Elessar, it is a matter of honor to her. I'd also prefer that Cyrene wouldn't ride on her own, but I understand her. Leave her be."  
  
Cyrene looked into Legolas' face and smiled, all the love she felt for him shining in her eyes, unbeknownst to her. Legolas' smiled back, a sad smile that spoke of his intention to honor her wishes and respect her will, above all.  
  
Aragorn said then: "It's not only that I want her to ride with company, Legolas. For the ones that will ride with her will be Gimli and yourself."  
  
Legolas was speechless for a minute, and then replied, "Elessar, Gimli and I are committed to the quest and the Fellowship. We are committed to you, and we will follow you into the fires of Mordor itself. .."  
  
"But we will ride into battle together, my friend. I will wait for you and the Amazons in Pelargir. And then travel as fast as the Gods allow it to Minas Tirith. I am relying on you. I need you Legolas, I need Gimli and I need Cyrene fighting at my side. But I also need the Amazons, to ensure our victory over Sauron's army. Or die trying. Please heed my request, Cyrene, Legolas," said Aragorn.  
  
Legolas looked into the Amazon's face again. He was sure that she would refuse, for she never gave in.  
  
Cyrene looked away from him to Aragorn, and brought her fist to her chest in salute, saying softly, "As you wish, Milord."  
  
**  
  
Cyrene, Legolas and Gimli parted from the Gray Company at Ethring, heading towards the ocean.  
  
The Amazon was still amazed at herself for having relented, but she was enjoying the company of the elf and the dwarf, and their presence distracted her from the dreaded encounter ahead.  
  
In the last two days she had needed Legolas' presence around her like air and sunlight, and the thought of the upcoming separation tore at her very soul. The hard hours at the Paths of the Dead that she had shared with the elf and Gimli had been the worst experience of her life so far. And she knew for certain that she wouldn't have made it without their support.  
  
It hadn't been that long since she had left Artemis Island, but to her, it felt almost like a lifetime. So much had happened since she left, two years ago.  
  
Cyrene had wandered upon Middle Earth for a whole year before riding to Rohan, trying to find peace for her restlessness and longing, and was starting to think that it had been to no avail, when she had reached Edoras and met the  
  
people of Rohan. She had stayed there because she had immediately liked Eowyn and Eomer, and the Rohirrim had accepted her in their midst.  
  
However, the last days had changed her life . She looked to her right, where Legolas and Gimli were riding next to her. The elf smiled at her while Gimli, already recovered from the ordeal at the Paths of the Dead, was grumbling about the necessity of riding at a hard pace towards the Belfalas. The dwarf still resented riding at all.  
  
She gave both a bright smile.  
  
When she had joined the Rohirrim Army on their ride to Helm's Deep, she had been the warrior, fighting for fame and glory of her people, but finding there so much more.  
  
Legolas.  
  
Just the feeling of his name on her tongue brought joy to her heart. She was enthralled by the elf, the whole of her lost in his spell, her body, mind and soul.  
  
The sensations she felt whenever he was near, when his image came to her mind, or his skin touched hers, took her breath away.  
  
Cyrene avoided thinking what would happen after the battle of Minas Tirith.  
  
She had to live the day; she would worry about the future when it came to be.  
  
**  
  
They arrived by nightfall at the first strivings of the Dor-en-Ernil mountains, and decided to camp there. They rode until they found a site from where they could see the distant delta of the Gilrain river flowing into the ocean.  
  
Once they settled around a fire, Gimli lit his pipe and Legolas pulled Cyrene closer to him. Cyrene sighed, moving closer to Legolas, enjoying his proximity.  
  
The sight and the smell of the ocean reminded her of her home, and yet, she was already home as he held her.  
  
The ocean reminded her of Artemis Island, and her duty towards her people. She still felt the icy cold grip around her heart that had almost broken her will at the Paths of the Dead. She had thought about it and decided it had not been the fear of her own death, but the fear of loss and failure that had brought her close to insanity at Mount Dwimor.  
  
And the fear was still housing in her heart, for she had remembered the previously forgotten main rule of the Amazons: not to bind herself to a man.  
  
And here she was, longing to live, to enjoy Legolas' presence close to her, no matter how much time the Goddess would give them together.  
  
Legolas' look was lost in the horizon, his keen eyes drinking in the beauty of the ocean. He was relaxed, holding Cyrene close to his heart, his friend Gimli at the other side of the fire. For a moment he forgot the war, the quest and all evil in Middle Earth. He felt peace overflow his heart and wished that they could stay there for eternity.  
  
Suddenly, Legolas was painfully aware that neither Cyrene nor Gimli would be with him forever. For the fist time in his long life, he ached for something he couldn't have: a mortal life to share with his beloved ones.  
  
Gimli felt the peace in the air, and he knew it was the peace before the storm. The battle ahead was going to be decisive to the fate of Middle Earth. And he hoped that his friends and companions would survive it.  
  
He sensed that the couple next to him needed privacy, one last night to share. And neither of them would send the friend away. 'But this friend knows about love, longing and lovemaking, though you would not believe it,' he thought.  
  
A sad smile curved his lips as he stood up.  
  
Legolas turned to him. "Is there something amiss, Gimli?"  
  
"No, Legolas. I just need to walk around to stretch my legs. You know that I do not enjoy the riding. I will also guard the camp. You may rest, my friends. I will guard your dreams. Until dawn," and saying this, Gimli picked up his axe and left the camp behind.  
  
Legolas smile widened. Gimli was as generous in his friendship as he was perceptive. Some qualities he had come to cherish in his dwarf friend.  
  
Cyrene blushed from head to toe. She was an innocent still, but she had understood why Gimli had given them the space and privacy. And even though she enjoyed the thought of spending another night in Legolas' embrace, she felt shy.  
  
Legolas turned Cyrene in his arms, and they kneeled in front of each other.  
  
"Amaelamin, we don't have to make love if you do not wish it. I am content as long as I may hold you close and enjoy your presence," he started saying.  
  
Cyrene raised her hands to caress his face. "My brave, gentle, careful Legolas."  
  
She leaned closer and kissed him softly. "I wish to join my body and soul with yours, Legolas. I will always be yours, never forget that," she said, 'No matter what , my Elf, my heart will stay with you,' she added silently.  
  
Legolas felt his heart burst with joy. They did not speak of love . but they were warriors in the midst of a war and they shared a feeling that joined them deeply, and that would survive either of them.  
  
His hand traced her face, lightly as a butterfly's wing, memorizing her features. Cyrene's hands tangled in his pale hair and traced the outline of his pointy ears. They treated each other with reverence and a deep tenderness that tore at their very hearts. They sensed this would be their last shared moment for a long time. Perhaps their last shared moment ever. Every minute was precious.  
  
He undid her braided hair, which fell like a silken blanket over her shoulders and pulled her closer , kissing her tenderly while unlacing her clothes. Cyrene lost herself in his kiss and felt under her hands the supple leather of his jerkin and unlaced it, seeking the warmth underneath it.  
  
Their hands traveled each other's bodies as if discovering every inch of skin for the first time. Cyrene undressed him slowly, trying to hold every line of his face, every piece of his body in her memory. He had been her first lover, and he would be the only one ever, she vowed.  
  
Legolas hands roamed over her body shedding her clothes , revealing more of her in their path. By the Gods, he needed this woman! She made him feel complete. He wanted to share every single day of her life, know her more, cherish her and give her the immortal love he held for her in his heart . She had not said she loved him, but he knew , he saw it in her eyes when they lit up to meet his.  
  
Even though the feeling of another being caressing her bare skin was still new to her, Cyrene leaned into his touch, memorizing every sensation raging through her body. She needed him as she needed air for breathing. She could not imagine not having him close ever again. Her whole body was shaking by the force of her need for him, but she fought for control as she felt his lips drawing patterns on her neck, on her shoulders, on her breasts, feasting upon them with reverence, while his hands sailed over her body and touched her everywhere.  
  
Cyrene caressed his body, stroking the fine skin and loving the feeling of the strong muscles underneath it.  
  
His hand traveled to her core, and found her ready for him. Cyrene's body arched up to his touch, and a soft moan left her lips, as she sat down and sought his face with her hands, kissing him with all the might of her need.  
  
Legolas slowly brought her down on her back, kissing her breath away, and entering her body in one swift stroke. She arched up and brought her legs around his waist. They moved together, savoring the feeling of each other, until they reached their peak together, sharing the bliss for an infinite moment, touching each other's souls.  
  
Cyrene felt him still inside her body, and wished that they could stay together forever. Legolas kissed her, not wanting to let her go. And then he said the words she had dreaded the most.  
  
"You are mine, Cyrene. I love you, forever".  
  
Tears gathered in her eyes, as she felt her heart break. For she could not tell him the same.  
  
"Legolas, I know nothing about love", she whispered.  
  
Cyrene saw the pain in his eyes before he concealed it again. He rolled off her and pulled her into his embrace, but she felt him slowly withdraw himself from her. Their souls had met and now he was retreating from her.  
  
"Legolas, I cannot explain this to you . I have never loved. I only know that I need you close to me, because you bring joy and peace to my heart . You make my body sing and soar. I am yours. I feel that you are like sunlight, air or water to me. I feel that I can't survive without you anymore," she said, keeping her tears at bay.  
  
The elf knew that she spoke the truth. He was sure she had deep feelings for him, but until she didn't recognize she loved him, there was no hope for them.  
  
As she saw his disappointment, Cyrene flinched with regret. The laws of the Amazons were right, when a woman tied herself to a male she became weak and fragile. Cyrene had to change that, she would set herself free and fulfill her duty towards Rohan and her people. She would be strong again. And break her heart in the process.  
  
**  
  
Gimli returned to the small camp at dawn, and found them ready for departure. Legolas acknowledged his arrival with a nod and smiled at him, a sad smile that preoccupied Gimli. Cyrene was saddling the horses, and when she turned to Gimli, he saw in her look the same desperate expression he had seen in Legolas' eyes.  
  
Something had happened between them and Gimli could not imagine what it could have been. Since Edoras, Legolas and Cyrene had belonged together, bound by an unseen thread that had filled both with contentment and peace .  
  
Now, even though the elf walked over to the Amazon and enveloped her in a tight embrace, Gimli saw her hold on desperately to him and then let go. Something between them had been broken last night. Gimli's heart felt heavy and hurt for his friends.  
  
**  
  
They rode in silence, the ocean coming closer with each mile they left behind. Cyrene was looking around, studying the landscape, as if searching for something.  
  
As they approached some rocky slopes, she halted her horse and dismounted. She removed her bow from her back and looked back to Legolas and Gimli, who  
  
had dismounted as well.  
  
"Leave your weapons behind," she said softly. "The sentinels have seen us. They should know we come in peace" .  
  
Legolas tried to see any movement around them, listened to find even the faintest sound. Nothing. But he trusted Cyrene and did what she said.  
  
He finally heard a faint sliding of leather over rock and as he turned towards it he found two strung bows pointed at his chest, while another took Gimli on its aim. Behind his back he imagined that at least one bow was strung towards Cyrene.  
  
The warriors holding the bows were women, clad in leather, fur and metal. Dangerous looking women. The Amazons.  
  
Cyrene's voice was different as she addressed the women. He heard the authority in it , the same tone she had used with the Rohirrim Archers.  
  
"We are those you were expecting, Amazons. We are the warriors that come from Rohan to guide you into battle ." she was saying as one of the Amazons  
  
widened her eyes in surprise and, putting her bow down, she went to the ground on one knee.  
  
"By the Goddess, forgive us for not having recognized you, Mistress," she said, and the other warriors looked at Cyrene and after a minute they dropped to kneel on the ground as well.  
  
Cyrene spoke to the women, smiling. "Rise, my sisters. I do not deserve this anymore."  
  
The Amazon who had kneeled down first raised her head and spoke.  
  
"Mistress, you will always deserve our respect, for your bravery, kindness and noble birth. Welcome home, your Highness. The Queen will be pleased to see her daughter returning to us."  
  
********************************* 


	19. Chapter Nineteen: COMING HOME

Author: Claudia (Maram68) Rating: R  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own any of J.R.R. Tolkien's characters or settings, even if I love them as if they were my own. The idea and Cyrene are mine, only mine.  
  
Author's note : Thanks and love to my amazing beta Deb (Love you, Nut!) . And to Una, Viv and Bella, endless sources of inspiration.  
  
WOW I can't believe the last reviews . hmmm hope you like this one as well.  
  
Thank you for reviewing, you make my days brighter!!!  
  
Love, Claudia  
  
Chapter XIX: Coming Home  
  
Two of the sentinels lead Gimli, Legolas and Cyrene to the camp of the Amazons' army.  
  
They were riding in silence, Cyrene behind the sentinels her head up high, her features set in a serene but taut expression, as if bracing herself for facing something.  
  
Legolas looked from Cyrene's pale and sad face to the Amazons that surrounded her in respectful demeanor. He had always wondered why the proud woman had come to be that far away from her people, because it was widely known that the Amazons were fiercely loyal to their customs and traditions and lived for themselves, away from all other races. But he had also seen the pain and longing in her eyes and therefore had never burdened her with questions about her exile.  
  
Now that her royal station was revealed to Gimli and him, he was even more intrigued to know the reasons she had to leave her home. Cyrene was not the  
  
kind of woman who would run away from her duties towards her people, and as a princess her duty towards the Amazons was a life guiding principle. But Legolas would not ask; he would wait for the truth to reveal itself. Nevertheless he was saddened by the revelation of her lineage. It was another obstacle they would have to overcome, if they were ever to have a future together. And then, he felt the gap between them widening, as he thought of her returning to her people, leaving Middle Earth and him behind. He had been foolish, giving his heart away to the Amazon. But his heart had been hers from the first night on, when they had sat together under the stars, upon the walls of Helm's Deep. There was no turning back now.  
  
Cyrene felt Legolas´ eyes set on her, and a new pang of pain shot through her heart. She had to be strong. She had a duty towards Rohan now, and she would stand to it, no matter the cost. And she had to keep the thoughts of Legolas at bay, while she was preparing herself to face her past, her family, her people and the choices she had made, for good or for bad.  
  
As the little company rode over a couple of hills, they saw the camp. Two dozens of tents were set close to the seashore; there was activity wherever they set their eyes. Women fencing, preparing food, tending horses.  
  
The sentinels rode towards the middle of the camp, where the biggest tent stood, guards set around it.  
  
As they rode past the tents Amazons gathered, and most of them recognized Cyrene kneeled on one leg saluting her. She smiled and acknowledged the tribute nodding her head. As they reached the biggest tent, all dismounted, and while the sentinels went inside, Cyrene, Legolas and Gimli stood outside, waiting. The elf and the dwarf took care of staying a couple of paces behind the Amazon as a sign of respect. From where he stood, Legolas could see Cyrene's face, and saw her straighten her stance even more. All Amazons from the camp were gathering around them slowly, keeping a respectful distance.  
  
Two tall women, clad in warrior attire, walked out of the tent, both about the same build than Cyrene. The first one, that had her head uncovered, was a woman in the autumn of her life, regal and serene. The Queen.  
  
The second one was a woman wearing a helmet that covered her face, one step  
  
behind the Queen.  
  
As the Queen stepped out, Cyrene had fallen on her knee to the ground, her fist closed over her heart, her head bowed.  
  
Legolas and Gimli bent their heads in respect towards the ruler of the warrior women. She acknowledged the greeting of the foreigners, but her eyes were set on the young woman kneeling in front of her. She walked the few paces that separated her from Cyrene, and took the younger woman's chin in her hand lifting her face to meet her eyes.  
  
"Many seasons ago, one of my flesh and blood left her kin behind and sought a new life beyond the horizon. I feared my eyes would never see you again. My  
  
heart is full of joy. Rise, Cyrene, you have bowed to the queen, now embrace your mother," she said.  
  
Cyrene stood up, and enveloped her mother in a tight embrace. "Oh Mother, the Goddess has been kind to us, for I have also longed with every breath to be able to see you again!" she said softly, Queen Myrine being the only one able to hear her.  
  
"So the lost sheep has found its way back to the flock?" said a bitter voice from behind Myrine.  
  
"Alkaia ... ", started to say Myrine. Cyrene, gently released her mother saying,  
  
"She is right, my Queen, I have not properly saluted the princess, heir to the throne. Forgive me, Mistress", she said, and bent again down on her knee.  
  
Alkaia stepped in front of Cyrene, and nodded to her. "That is what you owe me, at least, Cyrene. I suppose I have to welcome you too?"  
  
Cyrene did not look up, but the knuckles of the closed fist over her heart went white.  
  
"Rise, Cyrene, I have been told you have come as an envoy from Rohan. And as such, you deserve my respect," said the princess bitterly.  
  
Cyrene rose, keeping her eyes downcast.  
  
The Queen looked from one of her daughters to the other, and sighed. "You are welcome, Cyrene, we have been expecting the envoys of Theoden. Introduce your companions, if you will."  
  
Cyrene nodded and began. "King Theoden of Rohan, my liege, has sent me to you, Queen Myrine, in the terms of the ancient pact of Eorl and our people. But the Rohirrim are only a part of the great force gathering to fight the dark forces of Mordor," she paused, rising her voice to reach the warriors surrounding them. "My sisters, meet two brave and noble warriors of Middle Earth: these are Legolas from Mirkwood and Gimli of the Dwarves. Their adventures and feats are legend. They are here representing two races of the new alliance of the free people of Middle Earth".  
  
Legolas and Gimli heard an approving murmur from the ranks of the Amazons. Cyrene had made an impressive introduction. And now it was their turn to speak.  
  
Gimli stepped forward. "Your Majesty, I am Gimli, son of Gloin, from Erebor in the heart of the Lonely Mountain. Cyrene speaks the truth, for a mighty force is gathering at the walls of Minas Tirith to fight the minions of Sauron and stop the evil Lord of taking over Middle Earth. The courage and shrewdness of the Amazons are as legendary as their might in the battle. I am honored to have  
  
been chosen to meet you, Mistress", and after saying this he bowed again in  
  
front of Myrine and Alkaia.  
  
Legolas took one step and spoke as well, "Queen Myrine, I come from the depths of the Black Forest. I am Legolas Greenleaf, son of King Thranduil of Mirkwood. Master Gimli and I were sent to you by Elessar, Heir of Isildur, who rode through the Paths of the Dead and has raised a mighty army to defend Middle Earth against the Dark Lord of Mordor. The Elves have joined the fight, and we have heard as well of the bravery and glory of the Amazon warriors. More glory and fame will be yours after this battle, Mistress, for you and the legendary Amazons."  
  
"You are welcome, envoys. We are honored to be visited by famous warriors. The Amazons are ready to ride into battle. You might depart tomorrow at dawn, but for today rest and let us show you our hospitality," said Myrine, who then turned to Cyrene, "I wish a word with you, Cyrene, as soon as you have left your gear and our guests are settled. I will be expecting you." She nodded to Legolas and Gimli, who bent her heads again and walked into the tent.  
  
Alkaia stepped forward and took off her helmet, bringing her face close to Cyrene's, and snarled, "Do not delude yourself, sister, you are not welcome and you are not one of us anymore."  
  
Cyrene replied calmly, "I did not expect your welcome, Alkaia. I am responsible for my actions and my choices, as I always have been. I will be gone soon".  
  
Legolas and Gimli were mesmerized watching the exchange of words, but not because of what was said. But because of the sight, for it was like looking in a two-winged mirror. Cyrene and Alkaia were identical twins.  
  
**  
  
Once Alkaia had gone into the queen's tent as well, many amazons approached  
  
Cyrene. They were respectful and distant towards the foreigners, and loving to the Amazon. Among those who approached her was a small built woman with a fiery red mane, who barely reached Cyrene's shoulder, and who threw herself at the taller woman's neck, eliciting a pleased laugh from her.  
  
"You know I would have gone with you to the end of the world, Cyrene!" the redhead said.  
  
"I know Aella, and I missed you every day I was away," replied Cyrene, giving her friend a fierce embrace and lifting her off the ground.  
  
"Now, you will not escape me, sister, for I will stick to you like your shadow!" said Aella, while Cyrene set her down. "I hope you will, Aella. I missed you, little one."  
  
"Little one? Well, let it be known to you, Mistress, that I grew in the last seasons ... not a single inch!!!" said Aella laughing.  
  
Aella looked at Legolas and Gimli, who were still standing a couple of paces away from Cyrene.  
  
"These are interesting companions you brought along, Cyrene. They are different of the males we've met before,", she said approaching them.  
  
Aella was small built, but her body was well proportioned, trained in the arts of war. She hardly reached Legolas chest, but she looked proudly into the elf's eyes, and stretched out her hand.  
  
"I am Aella, daughter of Myrto. I am honored to meet you, Elf Warrior."  
  
Legolas gripped her forearm in greeting. "I am the honored one, Aella. My name is Legolas."  
  
Aella acknowledged the greeting and smiled. Then she turned and walked around Gimli. "I have never met anybody of your kind, Dwarf Warrior. You are very impressive ... forgive me. I am also honored to meet you, Master Dwarf."  
  
Gimli frowned. He was annoyed by the behavior of the Amazon. He did not enjoy being observed in any circumstance and much less by a female. Since Aella was still gawking at him, and forgot to stretch her arm towards him, he did not salute her in the warrior-like fashion, but only nodded to her. Impertinent woman! He was slightly curious about the petite redhead, but he was enraged about the strange way she was staring at him. He did not enjoy drawing much attention to himself. He was aware that he was very different to humans, hobbits and elves ... but the way this Amazon was observing him was beyond exasperating.  
  
She made him feel awkward . The light of interest in her sky-blue-eyes was clear to see. Damned woman.  
  
Cyrene had approached them, since all the Amazons that had come to greet her were now pursuing their chores.  
  
"Aella? This is my dear friend and mighty warrior Gimli. He is a great companion and I am honored to be called his friend," she said. Gimli's eyes lit up when he looked at Cyrene. After the Paths of the Dead they shared a bond for as long as they both lived, and he cherished the thought.  
  
Aella's eyes widened as she heard Cyrene's words and saw Gimli's reaction to them. So it was true. Women in the outside world were not always submissive to man. Cyrene was regarded as an equal, and by this interesting dwarfish male  
  
nonetheless. By the Goddess, Aella was not going to let Cyrene go away without her this time!  
  
Aella led Legolas and Gimli towards a tent that stood several feet away from the Queen's tent. Gimli walked inside as did Legolas and Cyrene. There were fur-pallets on the ground, a chest, some stools and a low table with water and wine, as well as fruit.  
  
"The Queen wants the envoys to rest and feel comfortable during your stay among us", Aella told then, then turned to Cyrene, "The Queen wants her youngest daughter to share her quarters She is expecting you, my friend".  
  
Legolas saw a shadow cross Cyrene's face. "I will go to the Queen now. But I am staying with the envoys as well, Aella. Arrange it, I beg you," and saying this she turned to leave. As she reached the entrance of the tent, she looked back to Legolas. She was hoping to find his eyes and she did. A bright smile lit her face and she left. The elf needed no more reassurance. Even if Cyrene was not aware of it, he was holding her heart.  
  
**  
  
Cyrene was not aware of anything else but the conflicting emotions raging in her. She had the chance of leading the Amazons into battle, earn fame and glory for them and return to her people as a heroine.  
  
THIS was her People, her place in the world, her family. But she had turned her back on them and gone away. For good. And she was still convinced that what  
  
she had done was the best for all parties involved. However, Fate had decided to confront her with the choice of returning to the Amazons or leaving again. And in her heart, instantly, she knew that she would choose exile again. After Legolas, after Rohan, she would never fit among her warrior sisters again. She just hoped she could endure leaving her mother again. Preparing herself to face the mother she loved above everything else on earth, she paused for a moment at the entrance of the Queen's tent. She would stand up for her actions, and prayed to the Goddess for wisdom and strength. Sighing loudly, Cyrene squared her shoulders and entered the tent of Myrine, daughter of Hyppolite and 34th Queen of the Amazons. Myrine was as tall as Cyrene, had already seen over forty summers cross the  
  
land but still was a fearsome warrior. Her long black hair showed many silvery strands but there were almost no lines on her face that might betray her age. Age and experience had given her face both decision and leniency. And to her people, she was the kindest and most fair ruler in history. She was respected and loved, and any of the warriors would have died gladly for her. Cyrene felt this for Myrine and more. Her mother was love and life to her. Myrine embraced her daughter again and showed her to the chairs that were set next to a low table. Cyrene sat next to her mother and waited for the queen to speak. "I thought I would never see you again, Cyrene. But then, our friends in Dol Amroth reported that you had reached Rohan and that you were fighting along  
  
the Rohirrim. We also heard of a great battle some days ago, and that you brought glory to the name of the Amazons on the battlefield, as did your companions to their people. I am proud of you, my daughter," began Myrine. She put her hand over her daughter's as she added softly, "I know why you left, child. You shouldn't have. But it only shows how honorable and brave you are. I miss you, Cyrene." Cyrene felt her heart skip a beat. 'I miss you too mother, more than you will ever know', she thought, but she said, "Mother, it was my choice and I did what I deemed right to do. I am sure that Alkaia has now all the support she needs and she will be a great ruler to our people. The survival and union of the Amazons should never be put at risk. It is our duty to ensure that, my queen," Cyrene said. "I know Cyrene, I know. Though I would have never asked this from you. The outside world can be cold and lonely for a stranger. And we are doomed to be strangers to them, forever. Alkaia does not understand that you left to ensure her leadership and feels betrayed. She still thinks she has to prove that she deserves the crown. Beware of your sister, Cyrene. She is a fine woman, but she still has to learn many things about life. As you did. I see the shadows in your eyes my daughter, you have learned about the dark side of life. I regret that I was not by your side to help you face them. But, as I said, I am proud to be your mother, and you have all my blessings upon you." Cyrene looked into her mother's eyes. Myrine knew that Cyrene was not returning to the Amazons and she had accepted it. Her love and admiration for the older Amazon grew even more, as she reached out and held her mother close to her heart. "My queen, I will lead our warriors to battle and bring once again glory upon our race. But I will not return with them. My path lays now far away from the daughters of Artemis. May the Goddess shed all her blessings upon you and my sisters in arms. As well as upon the next queen, Alkaia," and saying this, Cyrene turned away from her mother and left the tent. She was walking away again, but this time she felt no fear or despair, not even knowing she was going to engage in the greatest battle on Middle Earth since the Battle of the Last Alliance. She would fight and emerge victorious or die in the effort. As an Amazon.  
  
**************** 


	20. Chapter Twenty: FAMILY REUNION

Title: In the midst of adversity Author: Claudia (Maram68) Rating: R Disclaimer: I do not own any of J.R.R. Tolkien's characters or settings, even if I love them as if they were my own. The idea and Cyrene are mine, only mine.  
  
Author's note : Part of this chapter was co-written with Bella ... thanks, love, for kicking the muse! Thanks and love to my amazing beta Deb (Love you, Nut!) . And to Una, Viv and Caryn real sources of inspiration. Thank you for reviewing, you make my days brighter!!!  
  
Love, Claudia Feedback: PLEASE!!!! maram@zuper.net  
  
Chapter 20: Family Reunion  
  
Aella was still standing in Legolas and Gimli's tent as Cyrene left to meet her mother. She looked curiously towards the guests, who were setting the saddlebags on the ground. She had already arranged for a new pallet to be brought to the tent for Cyrene, as well as her saddlebags.  
  
Neither of the strangers seemed interested in resting, and they were pacing the tent under Aella's close scrutiny.  
  
"May I enquire if you are going to rest or not?" she said.  
  
Legolas turned to her surprised. This woman had a forward manner to address  
  
strangers. He wondered if Cyrene had ever been like Aella. He looked inquiringly over to Gimli, who shook his head in denial to Aella's question.  
  
Before Legolas could answer, though, Aella continued. " You might enjoy joining our practice. We are always honing our warfare skills.".  
  
Legolas picked up his bow and was reaching for his quiver under Gimli's gaze. The elf was eager to see the Amazons practice before they went into battle together, even if Gimli wasn't.  
  
Gimli looked at Aella, and saw a glimpse of defiance in her eyes. The chit was looking forward to see the stranger's skills. So be it.  
  
They followed Aella to an open field were the amazons were practicing archery as well as combat skills with their traditional battle-axes.  
  
Some of the warriors engaged in practice looked over to the foreigners, but did not interrupt their activities.  
  
Gimli was bristling as he followed the Amazon. She irritated him greatly, and he was not entirely sure why. There was something in the way she approached him and looked at him that made him uneasy. He had glimpsed the appreciation in  
  
her eyes, and yet he wasn't used to this kind of forward attentions. He shook his head in an attempt to clear it, and then focused his attention in the practice field. He could not help but admire the Amazons' skills.  
  
They approached the area where the amazons were engaged in close combat with their short axes. Aella picked one of the double-bladed axes, a labryss, and expertly swung it around with a twist of her wrist.  
  
She looked at Legolas, who was standing next to her leaning on his bow, watching the practice. "I prefer the labryss over any other weapon. Master Legolas, are you acquainted with the use of the battle axe?"  
  
Legolas watched her wield the weapon and smiled in admiration.  
  
"I have used one before, Aella, but I prefer the bow. Master Gimli's preferred weapon, however, is the axe."  
  
He smiled at the grimace on Gimli's face, and realized just how precarious his friend's position was. It was painfully obvious to him that the petite Amazon was taken with Gimli.  
  
Aella turned to Gimli. "So, Master Dwarf, you are the one who will teach us new moves with the axe? Would you show us your skills, confronting maybe, one of our warriors?" she said, a red brow raised as if daring him to refuse.  
  
Gimli barely kept the scowl from his face. "I would be happy to, Amazon. Show me to the warrior and I would be honored to face her."  
  
Aella's grin widened as she began to shed her outer garments while saying, "I suppose that only one of our best axe wielders will do. I am ready, Master Gimli"  
  
And flipping the labryss again from her right to her left hand and back, she entered the circle where the other warriors were practicing.  
  
Gimli could not stop the rise of his eyebrow as she had removed her outer garments in preparation to fight. He took out his axe and followed her into the circle. He was only vaguely aware of the other warriors backing away and turning to watch the newcomer wield his weapon against Aella. He bowed to her, and then readied himself to spar.  
  
He assumed a defensive stance. Both warriors started to move carefully, measuring the other, no one ready to make the first strike, until Aella made a fast turn and aimed a blow to Gimli's head. The dwarf easily deflected it with his heavier weapon.  
  
In return he tried a weak blow towards Aella's side, but she turned and evaded the blow. They stood again, watching the other, waiting for the next move.  
  
Gimli could not decide between showing the wench a lesson or holding back in fear of hurting her.  
  
Aella saw the indecision in the dwarf and attacked, with fast blows directed to his armor, twirling around him. Gimli heard Legolas chuckle behind him and saw the other warriors standing around them cheering on Aella.  
  
Gimli realized his mistake immediately. He had allowed his worry over hurting the Amazon and his weariness towards her weaken his fighting. He steadied himself and forced his attention on her movements. He calculated her next move and stepped forward to counter it, taking her by surprise. He switched the axe to his opposite hand and took advantage of a weak spot in her stance. He smiled in  
  
satisfaction ; this was a challenge, and he would not underestimate her again.  
  
She countered quickly, twirling the axe, and he forced himself to be patient and wait for her to actually move. She swung the axe and he managed to counter her, though just barely. She was very good. He shifted his weight to his left leg, and swung the axe towards her side. She almost missed his movement, but somehow managed to block him. He continued the movement, each time meeting the hard steel of her blade. He changed the angle of his blows, trying to break her defense.  
  
Aella felt sweat dripping down her neck, and her admiration for the Dwarf grew with every thrust of his axe. He seemed never to grow tired, and he was the first real competition she had faced in a long time. She countered every stroke, studying his stance and his technique. He leaned forward and she smiled as she quickly twirled and made contact with his armor. He recovered quickly and she found herself once again at an impasse with the skilled warrior.  
  
Gimli growled his displeasure as she made contact with his armor. Anger and  
  
pride spurred him on and he renewed his attack. She met him thrust for thrust, and his doubts toward her fade into admiration. It had been many years since he had faced so fierce a competitor. She twirled again; he blocked her and then took his advantage to make contact with her armor as he smiled .  
  
"You are fierce in battle Mistress Aella," Gimli shouted as she came at him with a fresh round of glancing blows. He parried, then stroked at her, only missing her because she sidestepped and twirled in return. He swung the axe, off balance, but managed to block her attack and recover his feet before she could thrust again.  
  
"And you are a worthy opponent Master Gimli," she said as she continued her  
  
strokes, knowing that for the first time in her life she was evenly matched by this Dwarf Warrior.  
  
Gimli blocked her newest attack, realizing as well that they were equal opponents. He had not been evenly matched in battle since he was a young Dwarf, and suddenly he felt his interest for this flaming-haired Amazon rise.  
  
At that moment he also understood why he had been so uneasy with her.  
  
She had awoke in him longing and desire, even if she wasn't a dwarf.  
  
Enraged by having recognized the effect Aella was having on him, Gimli held out for a powerful blow that brought the Amazon off balance. Aella rolled on the ground and aimed at Gimli's legs with the broadside of her axe, bringing him down as well.  
  
"Enough!" toned a hard voice from behind Legolas and the other warriors watching the sparing. Legolas recognized the voice. Princess Alkaia had reached the practice grounds.  
  
"Aella, there is no need to tire our guests in practice." Alkaia said, a smirk on her face.  
  
Aella jumped to her feet, offering Gimli her hand to help him get up, but the dwarf got up on his own. Aella stood in the same spot, her head bent, her fist closed over her heart.  
  
"Practice is good, Your Highness, especially before a battle. My people, the dwarves, never tire," said Gimli.  
  
Legolas was amazed at the resemblance between Alkaia and Cyrene. The long black hair, the strong features, the honey-colored skin. But when Alkaia looked at him, he saw the main difference. The eyes.  
  
While Cyrene's eyes showed the depths of her soul, Alkaia's were devoid of emotion as she observed him, sizing him up.  
  
"We have seen the Dwarf Warrior skills with the axe. Do you care to show us  
  
your prowess with the bow now, Master Elf?" said Alkaia.  
  
Legolas nodded., "As you wish, Mistress. I know that the only archers that might compare to the elves are undoubtedly the Amazons."  
  
Alkaia smiled to the elf and for a moment Legolas thought he could see Cyrene in her sister's features.  
  
"Then, as I am renowned as one of the best archers among my people, we might compete as well, Master Elf," she said, and turned to instruct the warriors to prepare targets for the competition.  
  
While the targets were being set, the Amazons that had watched Aella and Gimli spar stood now surrounding the archers. Legolas looked around and saw Gimli  
  
standing behind him. The dwarf was not amused, and neither was Legolas. He could not beat the princess in front of her warriors, could he? But then, he had to show his prowess to earn the Amazons' respect. From the corner of his eye he saw Aella leave the field.  
  
Alkaia strung her bow, and aimed for the first target. She shot the arrow inside the bull's eye. Legolas shot his arrow so that it hit the side of Alkaia's arrow.  
  
The next target was set fifty paces farther away. Alkaia's shot hit the center of the target again, as did Legolas' arrow. There was a murmur of approval in the crowd of Amazons surrounding them.  
  
The next target was set at one hundred paces. Alkaia's arrow hit a palm away from the center. Legolas sighed, as his shot hit straight the center of the target.  
  
Alkaia laughed. "At least I injured the enemy badly this time. Maybe all I need is some tutoring with my aiming ... would you care to help me, Master Elf?"  
  
She stepped closer to the elf, looking up to him, giving him her bow.  
  
"You will help me, will you not, Legolas?" she continued. Legolas stood behind her and brought his arms around Alkaia to help her with her aim.  
  
It was strange for him, having Cyrene's twin in his arms. She looked like her, but she wasn't her. He felt a chill run up his spine as Alkaia purred, only for him to hear, "You feel good, Legolas. I am most certain that we would enjoy a marvelous mating if you find your way to my tent tonight..."  
  
Legolas stiffened, choosing to ignore Alkaia's invitation.  
  
"Mistress, you have to concentrate on your aim," and he lead her hand while she strung her bow and shot. The arrow went straight to the target, hitting next to Legolas' last shot.  
  
"I mean it, elf, I might show you the pleasure you can only find with a real woman," Alkaia whispered, turning to Legolas.  
  
The sound of an arrow's flight next to their heads called their attention. The arrow hit the last target they were shooting at, splitting the last shot arrow cleanly in two.  
  
"I gather you have not been practicing much lately, Alkaia, for such a poor  
  
display with the bow," a serene voice said from behind them.  
  
Alkaia's eyes narrowed and her face contorted in hatred as she stepped out of Legolas' arms to face Cyrene.  
  
"After you left, sister, I had no need for practice, for I am the best archer among our people," she said.  
  
"Too bad, Alkaia, that you need competition to improve and can not achieve this on your own. You should be aware of your duties towards your position, sister," Cyrene said.  
  
Her eyes were set on Legolas, as she had seen her sister in his arms moments before.  
  
"As YOU did, Cyrene? Cowardly running away from the Island in the middle of  
  
the night? Were you afraid that I might prove that I am the best of us both?" said Alkaia sweetly.  
  
Ominous silence settled over the Amazons. Cowardice was the worst insult that could be dealt to a warrior. Cyrene could not take it without reaction. She had to challenge her sister and defend her honor, or the warriors were never to respect her again. And she had to lead warriors to Pelargir the following morning.  
  
She sighed loudly, stepped in front of Alkaia and said, her deep voice laced with anger and sadness. " You are still a spoiled child, Alkaia, and I hope that you grow up to be worthy of leading our people. But first, you should learn not to speak without thinking. I should have done this a long time ago," holding out, Cyrene gave her sister a backhanded blow to the face.  
  
"I will see you at dusk, Alkaia, here," she said, and then turned on her heel to leave the field, followed by Aella, who hadn't moved from her side after going to fetch her when Alkaia had joined the practice.  
  
Alkaia looked over to Legolas and gave him a bitter smile. She said enticingly to him, "It seems that you will see a real fight even before the battle, Master Elf. But my offer still stands. I will wait for you after I have shown my sister who is the best of us," and saying this she left the place as well.  
  
** 


	21. Chapter Twenty One: AMAZONS

Title: In the midst of adversity Author: Claudia (Maram68) Rating: R Disclaimer: I do not own any of J.R.R. Tolkien's characters or settings, even if I love them as if they were my own. The idea and Cyrene are mine, only mine.  
  
Author's note : Thanks and love to Viv, my dear llama-sorceress, to Deb, Una, and the Fic Chicks/Usual Suspects, for bringing me always back from the brink of despair. Thank you for reviewing, you make my days brighter!!! Love, Claudia  
  
Feedback: PLEASE!!!! maram@zuper.net  
  
Chapter XX1: Amazons  
  
Cyrene trembled with rage as she walked back to the tent.  
  
She had hoped that her twin had changed in the time she had been away. But Alkaia clearly had not.  
  
And then, as Cyrene had seen Alkaia with Legolas, she had felt ire rise as jealousy surged through her veins. This was an emotion she had never felt before.  
  
The fact that he had told Cyrene he loved her didn't make Legolas her property. He could be with any female of his choice. Cyrene had made no claim on him or his affections. Legolas was just a male, nothing more. And she had consciously relinquished any claim she might have had on him. She had chosen to have her strength back, to be able to lead the Amazon warriors needed in battle. She had to deny herself and stand up to her duty, if she faced her feelings towards the elf, she would be as weak as the women of Middle Earth. Her freedom gave her the strength for the battle, and that was mattered now.  
  
Then why did she feel torn and betrayed?  
  
She heard light footsteps behind her and turned to see Aella almost running to catch up with her. Cyrene smiled at her friend.  
  
"You will have to kill me this time, Cyrene, to keep me from following you, " said Aella breathlessly.  
  
Cyrene put her arm over her friend's shoulder. "I will not survive another day without you to watch my back, sister. I won't leave you behind ever again, I swear"  
  
Before they entered the tent, Cyrene looked up to the sky. She had a couple of hours before dusk; she would take the time to review her gear and see if there was anything she needed to replace.  
  
She needed to get away from Legolas, to ban him from her thoughts.  
  
Cyrene retrieved her saddlebags, her labryss, and her sword from the tent and walked out. She collided with Legolas.  
  
"Cyrene ." he began. Cyrene took one step back and looked into his eyes, but she couldn't hold his gaze too long. She sometimes got the feeling that Legolas could read thoughts by looking into her eyes, and she certainly didn't want him to read her current feelings.  
  
"Forgive me, Legolas, for interrupting your archery lesson with Alkaia. I have to prepare myself now. I will see you after the duel," she told him and turned away from him.  
  
"Cyrene, I beg a word . please!" Legolas said. He had seen the pain and betrayal in the split second their eyes had met. He had not done anything wrong, but he needed to talk to her. He could not bear the thought of her facing her sister in a duel and thinking he was being untrue to her.  
  
Aella and Gimli were watching the exchange. Aella recognized the tension in the air and realized in a moment that Legolas was Cyrene's mate. The little Amazon looked over to Gimli, and they exchanged an understanding look.  
  
Aella stepped in front of Cyrene. "Cyrene, we still have time. I will go through your gear. I think you should have a word with Master Legolas. It will be better to do it before you face Alkaia."  
  
Gimli also walked up to Cyrene. "My friend, you need a clear mind and an untroubled heart for the duel. You should talk to him."  
  
Cyrene looked at her friends and then at Legolas. She did not need this, not now. But she knew they were right.  
  
"Thank you Aella, I'd appreciate it if you reviewed my gear. Master Legolas, we shall have all the words you like," and saying this she gave her weapons and saddlebags to Aella and walked away.  
  
Gimli turned to Legolas, took the bow from his hands and said, "You are sometimes amazingly slow in yours reactions, Master Elf. Follow her, now!"  
  
Legolas followed Cyrene and caught up with her, walking by her side as they  
  
approached the seashore.  
  
She chose a place in the beach that wasn't easily visible from the camp and  
  
settled on the ground. Cyrene removed her boots and enjoyed the feel of the fine sand under her bare feet. She remained silent, looking out to the ocean.  
  
Legolas sighed and sat down next to her. Neither of them spoke for a while,  
  
organizing their thoughts and analyzing their feelings before either said a word.  
  
The only sound around them was the splashing of the waves and the cries of seagulls over them.  
  
Legolas averted his eyes from Cyrene and drank in the beauty and immensity of the ocean. The vast blue was more than he had ever imagined. The waves lured him, and he dreamt of distant lands and new shores. He could feel the call of the sea attracting him like a magnet. But then, he looked at Cyrene and she was a part of the ocean's indescribable magic. She was his very own mermaid, who had ensnared his heart and soul.  
  
"You do not have to fight your sister, amaelamin," he told her.  
  
"I do, Legolas," she answered.  
  
Silence fell over them, both thinking what they should say next.  
  
"I thought I was doing what was best for all, when I left," said Cyrene softly.  
  
Legolas did not respond, waiting patiently for Cyrene to continue.  
  
"It never occurred to anybody that my mother would bear twins. It was actually seen as a bad omen, for my mother was supposed to bear only one daughter to  
  
succeed her as queen. The priestess said I should have been drowned at birth. But my mother fought against all to keep me. As Alkaia and I grew up together, the Amazons accepted me. And then the real difficulties began," Cyrene said, not even looking at Legolas. She was telling her tale to the ocean, to the beach, to the air. She was relieving her soul of its burden.  
  
"Alkaia was always weaker, since birth. And as the heir to the throne, she was well looked after, sheltered, and kept from all danger. I was free instead. Aella and I grew up outdoors, riding, scouting, practicing and playing with the common children. Alkaia was upset that she had to stay behind and she began her training much later than me. I went to my first battle a whole year before she was even ready for her first fight. I was lucky to survive it, and I fought with the troops for a long time before I got my first commands. Nobody ever thought less of  
  
Alkaia because she had not the battle expertise. But she was always trying to show that she was the better sister, and that she had earned the right to be the queen. But then she had some trouble with the warriors, and some of them said I was more suited to inherit the crown. I knew then that I had to put and end to any thoughts of that. And my choice was to leave".  
  
"Even if it broke your heart?" asked Legolas.  
  
"It was my duty, Legolas. As long as I was there, there would always be comparisons. And now I see it was for naught, for Alkaia still resents me, and acts like a spoiled brat. I recognized back then that I would never be able to go back. And I missed my mother, and also Alkaia, because I love them. I always loved her dearly. I think I always will," she explained. Two tears fell down her cheeks.  
  
"Then why did you challenge her, Cyrene? You might die or kill her in the duel," said the elf. He prayed to the Valar that neither would happen. He could not bear to watch Cyrene die or kill her sister.  
  
"She accused me of cowardice. There is no worse offense among my people. If I hadn't challenged her, the warriors would not follow me into battle. And I think she needs to beat me in combat to be able to grow up and assume her role. I will comply with my duty again," the Amazon said.  
  
Legolas reached over to her and took her hand. They sat in silence for another moment, and then she said, "Whatever happens, Legolas, know that even though I can't offer you love, you will forever have my heart. As my friend, as my lover, as my brother in arms. I shall forever be grateful to the Goddess for having met you," and she reached to him to tenderly kiss his lips.  
  
Legolas pulled her to him. He deepened the kiss, but then pulled away from her lips to only hold her close. He would not say the words in his heart, because he did not want to upset her. But all he wanted right now was to have her safe in his arms again. Legolas would wait to hear the words she did not dare to say. They still had to defeat Sauron and save Middle Earth from darkness. And if they both survived the battle, he swore that he would hear Cyrene admit that she loved him.  
  
**  
  
Gimli sat on the ground, across from Aella, while he watched the Amazon going through Cyrene's gear, testing the sharpness of the sword, the resistance of the bow, the edge of the labryss and the other weapons. Usually talkative Aella was pensive and silent.  
  
He had seen the look of understanding and mild shock in her eyes as she recognized the relationship between Cyrene and Legolas.  
  
"You seem troubled, Mistress Aella," he said, slightly amused by her silence; he was used to her forwardness.  
  
Aella glanced up from the labryss she was sharpening and caught the wise and soft brown eyes of the dwarf. She smiled shyly at him. She was troubled indeed.  
  
When Cyrene had left the island, Aella had felt as if somebody had ripped her heart out. They were more than sisters.  
  
She had not even tried to imagine how it was going to be for Cyrene to live away from the island. And definitely, the last thing that came into her mind was  
  
imagining Cyrene having a mate.  
  
For the first time she thought that maybe Cyrene's life had changed too much and that there might be no more space for her in her friend's life. And the next thought was even more confusing. In the outside world Aella might find a mate for herself as well. After a lifetime among the Amazons she did not dare to  
  
imagine sharing her life with someone else than her sisters in arms. Herself, as well as Cyrene, had not mated yet, even though she was well in the age of bearing daughters. Her position as champion of the labryss and commanding warrior had given her the preference to avoid having to fulfill her next duty towards her race. When she left the Amazons behind, after the battle, she would face a whole new world, and she felt a pang of fear of the unknown.  
  
"Master Gimli, I am troubled and confused," she said, feeling awkward by doing so. She had never before spoken about her thoughts to anyone but Cyrene.  
  
"Our people don't bind themselves to men. And my eyes tell me that Cyrene has bound herself to Master Legolas. Is this so, Master Gimli? Are they mates?" she asked.  
  
"They are mates, Mistress Aella. Though I do not know if they will stay together, they care deeply for the other and they share a bed. I think that they belong together," Gimli said, amazed at feeling comfortable enough with Aella to speak his thoughts about Legolas and Cyrene. It was clear to him that Aella cared  
  
about Cyrene as much as he did for his elven and Amazon friends.  
  
"Cyrene thinks very highly of you, Master Gimli. And I see it in your eyes when you look at her that you are fond of her as well. Is it common among your people to befriend men and women as equals?" Aella dared to ask. She wanted to know more about the outside world, and also find out more about the mind of this male she was very attracted to.  
  
Gimli felt like laughing out loud. He was beginning to find her unique mixture of boldness and naïveté appealing. Aella was far different from any dwarf- maiden he had ever set his eyes upon.  
  
"Mistress Aella, I must confess that women are not regarded as equal to men in Middle-earth. Cyrene is exceptional and so is her relationship with Legolas. She has learned to adjust herself. Among my people, maidens are shy and reserved beings, well guarded by their mates and fathers. They do not leave our dwellings and dedicate their lives to embellish and lighten the males' existence. What do you think about that kind of life?" he asked her, looking forward to her answer with some amusement.  
  
Aella cocked her head slightly while she thought over what Gimli had told her.  
  
She could imagine Cyrene working hard to find a place in the outside world. And her heart hurt at the thought of her proud, fiery friend submitting to anybody.  
  
Cyrene would not be alone out there anymore. She would probably share her life with a life-companion, Legolas. But which was the price Cyrene had to pay for defying the Goddess and leaving her kin behind? Was the elf worth it? Would  
  
Cyrene find happiness? Would Aella be able to endure the exile as well? She  
  
was an Amazon, who did not yield or bend to anybody's will but the Goddess'  
  
and her liege. As Cyrene had been as well.  
  
"Master Dwarf, our people aren't submissive. And Cyrene is a brave warrior, who found it wise to accept some of the traditions of the people out there to blend into their world. She would not submit to anyone, ever," Aella said forcefully.  
  
Gimli smiled at her. "It is not a matter of submission, my friend, but of sharing and conceding. You might find the idea absurd now, but maybe you will find someone that inspires you to do this and more. It is not that I believed in these notions before, Aella, but after seeing Cyrene and Legolas together, I understand. And I ache for them as well," he replied.  
  
Aella recalled the look in Cyrene's eyes whenever she looked at the elf. There had been pain but also belonging. Gimli was right, they belonged together.  
  
"Cyrene was blessed by the Goddess, when she met Master Legolas and yourself, Master Gimli. You are a true friend. I wish I might be worthy of your friendship as well," said Aella.  
  
"I will be honored to call you my friend, Mistress Aella," the dwarf said and held his hand out. Aella gripped his forearm in warrior fashion, but the dwarf did not let the clasp end there. Gimli took her hand and slowly brought her fingers to his lips. His thick beard tickled her hand. Aella's eyes opened wide; her heart beat as fast as a bird's and her blood ran through her veins like a wild river. She was mesmerized by his eyes, and didn't notice he had let go of her hand until it fell to the side of her body.  
  
Aella shook herself out of her daze, blushing furiously. Rising, she went to the entrance of the tent, looking for a way out of the awkward situation. She looked up to the sky and saw the first red streaks of sunset. She heard Gimli softly chuckling behind her.  
  
"It is almost time," she said.  
  
"Time?" asked Gimli.  
  
"For the duel. Cyrene and Alkaia," she explained, gathering Cyrene's weapons and sorting them out. She chose the short sword and a dagger and left the other weapons behind.  
  
"This duel is not an archery competition?" Gimli asked, frowning as he saw Aella's choice of weapons.  
  
"No, Master Dwarf. It is a duel with swords, to the death," she said and left the tent.  
  
**  
  
Cyrene had watched the sky changing as well and stood up from where she was  
  
sitting, leaving the cocoon of Legolas' embrace. He stood up as well.  
  
"Are you ready, Cyrene?" he asked her, embracing her once more and giving her a tender kiss.  
  
"Yes, Legolas. I should have done this two years ago. Now I have no choice," Cyrene said.  
  
She walked away from him and put on her boots and stepped back closer to him, briefly caressing his cheek. In her eyes he saw sadness and determination, the same stern will he had admired in her many times before. She leant into him to give him a bittersweet kiss, pouring into it all the love she felt for him, which she was determined to deny and forget. Then she turned around and left. Legolas  
  
followed her from some distance. She needed to be by herself right now and prepare herself for a hard battle against her twin sister.  
  
Cyrene reached the practice field, where already a circle had been drawn on the ground and lit torches staked in the earth, lighting the space where the duel was to be held.  
  
Aella and Gimli were waiting for her; her friend was carrying her sword and her dagger. She smiled at Aella and Gimli. Then she took off her outer tunic and her chain mail, removed her heavy leggings, and faced her opponent wearing only  
  
her short tunic and her boots. She began twirling the sword in her hand, the dagger secured at her calf, strapped to her boot.  
  
Alkaia arrived at the field clad similarly to Cyrene, except that Alkaia's tunic showed her station as princess, while Cyrene's was plain. Legolas looked again from one of the twins to the other and he knew now for sure that he would never mistake one for the other.  
  
Both stepped into the circle. They waited until Queen Myrine arrived. Both turned to the queen and saluted to her, one knee on the ground, their fists over their hearts.  
  
The queen's face was etched with sorrow. She spoke, "I never wanted to see this duel happening. Both fighters are cherished to my heart; I cannot hope that either of them wins the duel. So I will ask you, Alkaia and Cyrene, daughters of Myrine, will you not draw back from this challenge?"  
  
Cyrene lifted her face, serious and serene, and spoke up. "I will not take back the challenge unless the princess takes back her insult." Alkaia looked with a smug grin on her face. "I will not take back the insult this warrior deserves. It is on the field, that we will prove who is favored by the Goddess."  
  
Myrine sighed loudly. Legolas saw the pain in her eyes and the resignation that there wasn't anything else she could do to stop the fight.  
  
Alkaia and Cyrene saluted the Queen with their drawn swords and faced each other.  
  
Cyrene swung her sword in her right hand, measuring Alkaia's movements. Alkaia was also observing her sister, assessing her prowess. It had been two years since they had sparred. But this was no practice fight. And there would be blood drawn before it was over.  
  
Alkaia attacked, trying to hit Cyrene's side, but Cyrene parried the blow easily. She stepped gracefully to the side and swung out to hit Alkaia, who parried the stroke as well.  
  
After a couple of thrusts and defensive moves, it was clear to all the bystanders that Cyrene was faster and more agile than Alkaia. The princess, however, was striking with all her might, spurred by her rage and contempt for her twin. She had to prove she was the rightful heir, the one who deserved the crown, and that no one had just given it to her as her birthright.  
  
Gimli, Aella and Legolas realized that Cyrene was not taking advantage of any false move Alkaia made, and there were many.  
  
'By the Valar', Legolas thought, 'I have seen her fighting wounded at Helm's Deep and none of her strokes failed then, as they are now. '  
  
Cyrene was not fighting to defeat her sister, but to save her face and probably give her sister the opportunity to defeat her. Even if it meant that Alkaia might kill her.  
  
Once Alkaia calmed down enough to se that her sister was not going to attack her, she took advantage of it. And when she moved in with her sword this time, she pulled the dagger from her boot and gave Cyrene a back blow to the side of her body. Cyrene managed to parry just enough to avoid being cut through the middle of her rump, but the blade slid to the side. Cyrene twisted away again, and the dagger that almost pierced her heart cut through flesh and skin, deflected by her rib cage. Blood spurted from her side; she held her left hand to the wound and muttered an oath. She did not fall, but she staggered slightly, then caught her balance, facing Alkaia.  
  
"Nice move, sister. I bet you have already used that in battle. But I am not that easy to kill," she said to Alkaia, who smirked back at her.  
  
"But I will kill you, Cyrene," said Alkaia, flashing her blade "And then nobody will ever be able to say that you were the better one of us. And tonight, while some of your friends whimper over your tomb, I will enjoy mating with the magnificent male elf you brought along. And my victory will be complete."  
  
Cyrene saw red. She straightened up, forgetting her wound, while attacking Alkaia with renewed strength.  
  
Alkaia was not prepared for this, and after a few well-placed blows, Cyrene  
  
disarmed her, as she swung around and slashed widely, the blade making contact with her twin's flesh. Alkaia fell to the ground gripping her face. The last stroke had cut from her cheek to her jaw, and she was bleeding. She saw herself dead, the point of Cyrene's sword nipping the skin at her throat.  
  
Alkaia sat unarmed on the ground. Cyrene looked to her mother, whose eyes were shining with unshed tears. Then Cyrene kneeled before Alkaia, presenting her sword to her sister. A murmur rose from the Amazons surrounding the circle as Alkaia stood up and took Cyrene's sword from her hands. It was her turn to strike and end the feud forever.  
  
Deep silence fell around them. The princess looked around and saw the expectation in the warrior's faces. Her mother looked at her, pain etched in the beloved features. Alkaia understood then that if she killed her sister she would never be respected as queen. And as she looked down at the woman kneeling in front of her, she didn't feel any more hatred or contempt, but the pain of having been separated from her other half. She loved Cyrene and she had left, without a word, making a choice that had not been hers alone to make. Alkaia felt like crying herself as she recognized the source of her bitterness. Her sister had complied with her duty towards the Amazons and she was now giving her the greatest lesson of courage: resignation. And it was now Alkaia's opportunity to show that she was equal to her sister, fit to be the queen.  
  
Alkaia held the sword high over her head and thrust it into the ground saying, "I take back any accusations of cowardice I spoke about this warrior. She is a  
  
brave Amazon who will always represent us well upon the battlefield. If Cyrene, daughter of Myrine accepts my apologies, this challenge is over."  
  
Cyrene looked up, saying, "I am honored to accept your apologies, Mistress."  
  
The amazons who looked on allowed themselves a collective breath at last. Within moments, they broke into applause, then cheers. The warriors celebrated the end of the duel, while Alkaia walked away to take care of her wound. Cyrene stood up, and as Myrine approached her to see to her wound she said softly, "I am well, mother. It is a mere scratch. Go to Alkaia." Smiling at the queen, Cyrene turned away and started walking towards her tent.  
  
Legolas ran to support her, recognizing that her injury was serious. Indeed, as soon as the Queen had turned from her, Cyrene staggered. She leaned into Legolas, whispering, "I am well, Legolas, but do not let them see me weak. We have to ride at dawn." Legolas enveloped Cyrene in his cloak and helped her to walk to their tent. Once they were inside, he laid her down on the pallet and uncovered her to see the wound. The tunic was soaked with blood. ** 


	22. Chapter Twenty Two: WARRIORS

Title: In the Midst of Adversity Chapter 22 Author: Claudia (Maram68) Rating: R Feedback: maram@zuper.net  
  
Chapter XXII : Warriors  
  
Legolas was no healer. He was a prince and a mighty warrior but his healing skills were almost nonexistent.  
  
As he saw the gaping wound on Cyrene's body, he knew he would exchange anything, even his life, to save her. He just pressed some cloth to the cut to staunch the blood, the life that was abandoning the Amazon's body. Cyrene was unconscious. He could not bear the thought of loosing her, and her life was slowly draining away.  
  
They needed Aragorn or Elrond or any elven healer. He felt powerless, watching Cyrene die.  
  
Gimli and Aella had entered the tent; the little Amazon ran to her friend and gently pried Legolas' hand away from the wound so she could survey the damage.  
  
"Master Gimli, we have to work fast. Please heat up my dagger in the fire. We have to stop the bleeding. Master Legolas, you have been doing well. Just continue pressing the wound until we are ready to cauterize it," Aella said brusquely.  
  
"You mean to burn the wound, Aella?" asked Legolas in shock. He had never witnessed the practice of human medicine, and the thought of intentional cauterization filled him with horror. Did these people know nothing about herbs, plants and potions?  
  
Aella managed a weak smile for the elf. Was he daft? They were fighting against time, and Cyrene was loosing too much blood.  
  
Gimli was already holding Aella's dagger over the campfire. He watched silently the horrified expression in the elf's features and Aella's determined face. "Legolas, I am sure that Mistress Aella knows what she is doing. We have no other means to heal or at least keep Cyrene from bleeding to death."  
  
It was then that Aella understood Legolas. Gimli's explanation made it clear to her that the elf had never before seen a wound treated this way. He was distrustful of the cauterization. He might even think Aella was putting her friend's life at risk. She raised the hem of her tunic and showed the elf and the dwarf a long scar on her thigh.  
  
"Cyrene herself cauterized this wound many seasons ago. I was attacked by a wild boar. She killed the animal, took care of the wound, and carried me for two days until we arrived back at our dwellings. Fear not, Master Legolas, she will survive this ordeal. Cyrene is an Amazon, never forget that".  
  
Legolas nodded solemnly. He had no choice but to accept. Cyrene's salvation was not in his hands, but in the capable ones of the little Amazon and her barbaric methods of healing. Again, he was reminded of the differences between elves and Amazons. He was then distracted by a soft moan from the pallet. Cyrene was conscious again.  
  
"Legolas," she whispered hoarsely. He cupped her face with his free hand. "Do not dare die on me, amaelamin," he told the Amazon.  
  
"We have still plenty of oaths to fulfill, my Elf. And I never break my promises. I will not begin breaking them now," Cyrene paused, her lips dry and her head hurting.  
  
Aella grinned. "Of course you are not going to miss the grand battle upon us, will you, my sister?" Aella said and walked over to her wounded friend. "We are going to cauterize the wound, Cyrene. You think you will be able to ride come dawn?"  
  
Cyrene smiled fiercely back at her best friend. "I will. Even if you must tie me to the horse, I will. Now make haste, we don't have much time."  
  
Aella handed Cyrene a small piece of leather. Then she turned to the dwarf. "Please support her. Master Gimli, I'll need your help to keep her still as well. Is the blade ready?"  
  
Cyrene put the piece of leather between her teeth. Legolas kneeled next to her by the other side of the pallet, and she gripped his arm with her right hand. Gimli gave the red-hot dagger to Aella and took Cyrene's left hand in his. He used his other hand to hold her shoulder down. Even though he had never seen the procedure  
  
before, he understood what was going to be done.  
  
Aella looked into her friend's eyes. Cyrene nodded to her, and Aella set the burning blade carefully to the wound. In spite of Cyrene's efforts to keep her body still, the moment the metal touched her flesh, she bucked, her nerves rebelling against the searing pain. She bit hard into the leather and tears fell from the corners of her eyes. Aella calmly finished the cauterization.  
  
Legolas and Gimli would never forget the nauseating smell of burned flesh or the sizzle of the hot dagger against flesh and blood.  
  
Cyrene's grip on the elf's arm lessened. Legolas tenderly brushed his fingers over her cheeks and forehead, wiping away her tears and sweat.  
  
"Now rest, amaelamin. You have to gather your strength before sunrise," he said, placing a gentle kiss on her brow, as she nodded and fell asleep.  
  
**  
  
After Aella had bandaged Cyrene's wound with their help, Gimli and Legolas stepped out of the tent and sat in the darkness. Aella left, going to gather her gear and some replacements for Cyrene's gear as well. When Gimli asked her if she never slept, the small redhead gave him a bright smile and said that she could also sleep in the saddle, which left the dwarf grumbling about horse-crazed humans and elves.  
  
Legolas watched the sky. The stars shone bright and the crescent moon seemed suspended above their camp, as if it belonged to the Amazons. Gimli sat by his side. The dwarf silently watched his elven friend for a long while, and then spoke. "The last day has been very eventful indeed. Don't you agree, Legolas?"  
  
"Yes, Gimli it has been an amazing journey. I never imagined meeting creatures like the Amazons before. I never imagined what they would really be like, once I found out they were not some bard's fantasy. They are so different from everything I have ever known before," said the elf."  
  
"She loves you as deeply as you do love her, my friend," said the dwarf.  
  
Legolas smiled sadly. "Yes I know. And I am sure that deep inside she knows it as well. But she denies it; she says she doesn't know about loving others. And I hope we survive Minas Tirith to be able to show her about love. Cyrene has won my heart."  
  
"We will see the day after the battle, Legolas. And then the real battle will begin for you, for this woman is quite proud and stubborn. A fiery mate indeed," said Gimli, chuckling softly.  
  
"Well I do think that you have a heavy task ahead of you as well, Master Dwarf. Mistress Aella is quite taken with you and I do not think you are immune to her many qualities and charms," countered Legolas, his smile widening as he saw the dwarf's rugged countenance turn crimson.  
  
"Legolas, there is nothing between Mistress Aella and me. And I might add that though she is very appealing, I see no future in any liaison between an Amazon and a dwarf; there would no possibility of it," said the dwarf.  
  
Legolas smile faded, "I know Gimli. Probably as much future as a pairing between an Amazon and an elf. So, even if you might loose in the end, let your heart guide you, my friend. It is better than spending the rest of your life wondering what it could have been like."  
  
Gimli stretched and yawned. "What you say has too much truth in it, Master Elf. I will reflect upon it in my dreams, for now I will turn in. I will see you at dawn".  
  
Gimli disappeared into the tent. Legolas followed him to see if Cyrene was well. He felt her forehead and it seemed cool to the touch. After a brief caressing touch to her cheek, he went outside again. The shadow that had been there as he was talking to Gimli still stood there, a couple of feet away from the tent.  
  
Legolas sighed, and bowed to the shadow. "She is well, Your Majesty. You should not worry about your daughter."  
  
Myrine stepped then towards Legolas, drawing the hood of her cloak down. Full moonlight fell over her face.  
  
"You have known about my presence for a long while, haven't you Master Elf?" she said softly.  
  
"Yes, Mistress, I have. There has been no fever since the wound has been treated. We will ride at dawn, as Cyrene wishes," said Legolas, his head now high, facing Myrine. Cyrene and Alkaia looked very much like their mother. So this was what Cyrene would look like when she had passed her 40 seasons. Myrine was a striking woman; the only sign of her age were silvery strands in her hair. Her face did not show any lines; her eyes were clear and shiny.  
  
"I thank you for taking care of Cyrene, Master Elf. You deserve the gratitude of the queen and of the mother," and Myrine stepped closer to the elf, took his hand and brought it to her forehead, bowing to him. Legolas was humbled and gently pulled his hand away from hers and said, " You don't have to thank me, Mistress. Cyrene is my sister in arms, my friend and very dear to me. She would support me or Master Gimli as well, if we were wounded."  
  
Myrine smiled at him. "I suppose that your race is not very good at lying, Master Legolas. I am her mother, I can read her heart as well as I can read the feelings you harbor every time you look at her."  
  
The queen's look got lost in the horizon, where the ocean-waves glided with silver crests in the dark.  
  
"When I met the father of my daughters, I almost stayed with him. He was an  
  
exceptional male, one who respected and cherished me. I went back to his bed many times, against the laws of the Goddess. Until he asked me to share his life and I did not have the courage to leave my people and my heritage behind. Cyrene is a brave and noble woman, Legolas. I hope that you both find a path to happiness when all this is over. You have my blessings, Legolas Greenleaf of Mirkwood." After saying this, Myrine bowed again to him and walked silently away, pulling the hood of the cloak over her head again.  
  
Legolas looked after Myrine until she disappeared from his sight. They would need her blessings and much more.  
  
**  
  
Dawn found Cyrene sitting up on her pallet, changing her torn and bloodied tunic for a clean one. It took some effort, since moving her left arm was painful and difficult. But she had to. Amazons looked up to their leaders, they were supposed to be the incarnation of the Goddess herself. She would not fail her warriors, Theoden, or Aragorn. She was pulling the tunic over her head, with a considerable amount of pain, as she felt the fabric being gently pried from her hands, and tender hands helping her with the garment. "I thank you Legolas, but if I cannot dress myself I can hardly lead warriors into battle," she said.  
  
The elf slid his hands over her arms and sat behind her, pulling her back to his chest. "Let me assist you with these simple tasks and save your strength for the important ones. Trust me, Cyrene," he whispered in her ear. Gimli was still asleep.  
  
She enjoyed the feeling of his body supporting hers, the strength rippling beneath her back, the warmth and the tenderness he gave her.  
  
"I hate to ruin the moment, Cyrene, but we have to leave soon," said Aella from the tent's entrance. The look in her eyes showed her pleasure in seeing them together.  
  
Legolas sighed and turning her in his arms, he pressed a gentle kiss on Cyrene's forehead, before releasing her. "I will wake Gimli and leave you the tent, so that you might help Cyrene to prepare herself," he said to Aella.  
  
"I am awake, Master Elf. We dwarves do not need as much rest as you might think," said a grumpy voice from behind them.  
  
Legolas smiled at his friend and both left the tent. Aella put a basket on the ground. She pulled clean bandages and a jar out of it.  
  
"Your mother sent a jar of poultice for the wound, to help you with the pain, as well as a potion. She also sent a couple of tunics and she personally replenished your gear," said Aella.  
  
"Did you speak to the Queen? Why did you tell her about the wound?" asked Cyrene, flinching as Aella pulled the stained bandage from the burn. Aella smeared some poultice on the burn and bandaged her friend tightly. "She is still my liege, Cyrene, until I leave with you. I could not refuse her, and honestly, I did not want to. She cares deeply for you, my sister."  
  
"I know, Aella. I care about her too. But now we will part again, and this time for good," Cyrene told her friend.  
  
Aella applied one more bandage and pulled it tight. Cyrene felt like she had an iron rod in her back. The little Amazon helped her with the rest of her clothing and gear. The Queen had sent her a whole new set of armor. It was a beautifully crafted one, with ivy leaves and crescent moons engraved on the shimmering metal. It was a magnificent gift; Cyrene was overwhelmed. Next Aella strapped on her friend's armor, padding the part over the wound. Cyrene stood up and managed not to stagger. She was in full gear, and Aella helped her strap her quiver on as well.  
  
"Are you well, Cyrene?" asked Aella. Cyrene breathed slowly and gathered her strength. She felt as weak as a newborn babe. She would make it. She had to. She nodded.  
  
Cyrene stepped out of the tent to find Legolas and Gimli waiting for her. She could see Legolas's worried look, and she smiled back. Then Aella emerged from the tent, also in full gear, and they walked to the practice field.  
  
Over a hundred Amazons stood there, waiting by their mounts. Cyrene walked to her mare and talked softly to the horse that nuzzled her hand.  
  
Arod stood next to her horse, and a smaller mare was also there. Aella walked to the smaller horse, murmuring to it.  
  
Queen Myrine and Alkaia arrived on the field together. Alkaia sported a fresh scar on her face, one that would mark her forever. Cyrene knelt on the ground as all other Amazons did, to salute their Queen.  
  
Myrine approached Cyrene, and bid her stand up.  
  
"Cyrene, daughter of Myrine, are you ready to lead these women into battle?" asked the Queen in front of all warriors.  
  
Cyrene stood up. "Yes, my Queen, I am ready. The Goddess will guide us through the fight and to victory. Or else we will await you in the underworld, Mistress."  
  
"Before noon Alkaia and myself will return to Artemis Island. May the Goddess guide and protect your journey, my sisters!" she said to the Amazons.  
  
Myrine approached her daughter and put a new medallion around her neck. It was a piece of carved moonstone in the shape of a crescent moon.  
  
"I know you will not return to us. But do not forget your kin and where you come from. I wish you a good life, my child," Myrine said.  
  
Cyrene walked up to Alkaia, and bowed her head with her fist over her heart. "I will lead the warriors to victory, Mistress. I wish you a long and good life."  
  
Alkaia looked back into eyes so like her own and sighed. "I no longer hate you, sister. You will always have a home among the Amazons. Return to us." Cyrene felt her heart beating louder. This was what she had wished and never believed might come true. She gripped her sister's forearm in salute. Both gripped hard, and they felt for a moment as if they belonged together again.  
  
"May the Goddess be with you, Alkaia," Cyrene said and turned away. She addressed the warriors.  
  
"We are riding to face evil itself. And we will defeat it. The Amazons will conquer and inspire new legends of valor and victory. And the Goddess will guide us. We have been summoned upon and ancient pact, and we will show our prowess in battle. We will honor our heritage and defeat Darkness. Once again, our feats will be sung about and our daughters will look the world proud in the eye, as warriors. We are not mere females riding into fight, but women, daughters of Artemis, equal and even superior to many males. We fought at Troya, we fought Hercules, we overcome fear and attempt the impossible. That is why we are not leaving the battlefield unless we are victorious . This is my oath to you, my Queen an to you my warriors. Up, Amazons, the road is long!"  
  
Saying this, Cyrene mounted up and all the warriors did as well. Legolas helped Gimli up on Arod and jumped up before the dwarf. He caught up with Cyrene, who was leaning heavily forward in the saddle.  
  
"Cyrene," he started to say and reached out to her, but Aella interposed her horse between them.  
  
Legolas looked puzzled at Aella, not understanding why she interfered.  
  
The Amazon turned to him. "Do not do that, Master Legolas. She is the commander now and most Amazons will not understand the bond you share. You have to keep it secret, for hers and the mission's sake," Aella explained.  
  
And then she reached into her saddlebag and pulled out a flask, handing it to Cyrene, who received it and looked back at her smaller friend. Aella nodded and said, "It helps with the pain. Drink."  
  
Cyrene took a sip and handed it back to Aella. Her eyes met Legolas's and she smiled weakly.  
  
The elf understood the situation and resigned himself to abide by the Amazon's rules. But what hurt him the most was the look in Cyrene's eyes, full of longing and regret.  
  
They would ride now hard to meet Aragorn and the Army of the Dead at Pelargir. The next days would be full of hardship and then the battle would be upon them.  
  
Legolas felt his hope falter. They had so little time left before facing death and they were not allowed to at least spend it together.  
  
The Valar were setting a difficult trial before him, either to prove his intentions or to make him understand the impossibility of ever sharing his life with Cyrene.  
  
** 


	23. Chapter Twenty Three: THE RIDE OF THE RO...

Title: In the midst of adversity  
  
Author: Claudia (Maram68)  
  
Rating: R  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own any of J.R.R. Tolkien's characters or settings, even if I love them as if they were my own. The idea and Cyrene are mine, only mine.  
  
Author's note : Thanks as usual and all my love to Viv, my dear llama- sorceress, the better half of my brain!  
  
Also to the Fic Chicks/Usual Suspects, for their love and support.  
  
Special thanks and love for those like Ally, Abby, Vida, Akira, Darkfire and all those who like this story and review you make my days brighter and my muse better!!!  
  
Love,  
  
Claudia  
  
  
  
Chapter XXIII: The Ride of the Rohirrim   
  
The white Lady of Rohan stood on the battlements of Edoras. She watched the Riders of the Mark approaching the city, her uncle and brother leading the Rohirrim back from Helm's Deep and Isengard. A whole day had passed since the Gray Company led by Aragorn had departed for the Paths of the Dead. Eowyn had no more tears to shed, no more hope to hold on to. She had made up her mind through the last night. She would master her destiny. No man would decide for her anymore. But she would do it on her own terms, biding her time. She descended from the battlements and rode and meet the King and her brother, taking care that neither her sadness or determination showed. Eowyn was a different woman from the one they had left behind few days ago.   
  
  
  
**  
  
Merry Brandybuck was in awe as he rode next to Theoden approaching the City of Edoras. He had never seen a City like Edoras before, set like a jewel on a hilltop, the only hilltop on the plain. He was still wondering at the city and the landscape surrounding when he saw a lonely rider coming toward him. When the rider was close enough, Merry recognized that it was not a man, but a woman with long blonde braided hair wearing a helmet and armor and a sword belted at her side. She reminded Merry of Cyrene, the Amazon. "Hail, Lord of the Mark!" she called. "My heart is glad at your returning." "And you, Eowyn," said King Theoden. "Is all well with you and the city?" "All is well," she answered. Though it seemed to Merry that her voice belied her, for her voice was laced with deep sadness. "My king, my brother, your lodgings are prepared; I had full tidings of you and knew the hour of your coming." "Is Aragorn still here?" asked Eomer. "No, he is gone," said Eowyn turning away and looking at the mountains. "He came at night and rode away in the morning. He was riding to the Paths of the Dead and he has passed into the shadows from which no one has ever returned. I could not dissuade him. He is gone." Merry was strangely touched by the sorrow in Eowyn's voice. But somehow, the hobbit new that he would see his friends again. The Fellowship would be reunited. He was certain of it.  
  
  
  
** Merry was given a chamber close to the King's, since he was Theoden's squire. He waited on the King at the supper table and sat next to him awaiting the opportunity to tell Shire tales that Theoden had told him he wanted to hear.  
  
But supper provided no opportunity for story telling. An uneasy silence had settled among the Knights of Rohan at the thought that the brave Aragorn might be lost and with him the hope of facing and defeating Sauron and Saruman's army. The brave Rohirrim would ride into war as soon as their forces were gathered.  
  
When the meal was almost over, the captain of the Guard announced the arrival of an errand-rider of Gondor. Theoden summoned the man to his presence at once. The rider was a carrying a red-pointed arrow, a token of war that reminded Theoden of a war alliance long forgotten. Lord Denethor, Steward of Gondor, was summoning all possible aid: Minas Tirith would be soon under siege; enemies were closing in from every border. Theoden's face darkened with ill foreboding. This was happening faster then he had anticipated. "Tell Lord Denethor that even if he had not sent the red arrow the Army of the Mark will come to join the defense of the White City. But we had great losses at Helm's Deep, and we need to gather strength and supplies before riding to Minas Tirith. We will be there in seven days," said the King.  
  
The messenger's face fell. "I hope, Sir, that you may find there more than the ruins of the city walls in seven days, unless help from somewhere else comes to Gondor."  
  
The King of Rohan acknowledged the despair in the messenger's face with a nod. "'Tis what I can offer you now, there is no more I can do. Stay this night in Edoras and ride tomorrow back to Minas Tirith. We will come to your help as soon as possible."  
  
With that the king stood up, and they all rose. "Go now each to your rest," he said, "and sleep well. In the morning counsels are best, and night changes many thoughts."  
  
  
  
**  
  
Later that night, Merry could not sleep and decided to walk on the battlements.  
  
The moon was high and clear, but a dark, menacing cloud was approaching from Mordor. Besides the guards, there was only one other person on the battlements. A gust of wind blew away the hood of the cloak of the figure, and Merry recognized the beautiful White Lady of Rohan. She was looking towards the Dwimor Berg, speaking in hushed tones to the night air. But the wind carried her words to the hobbit. "You were my last hope to escape the golden cage and live up to my lineage. But you denied me and left, for good. I am of the House of Eorl and not a serving-woman. I can ride and wield a blade, and I do not fear either pain or death. I will not submit to stay behind bars, until use and old age force me to accept them, and all chance of doing great deeds is gone beyond recall or desire. I will take my destiny in my own hands." Merry was again touched by the pain and bitterness in the determined voice. He wished he could walk up to Eowyn and say a word of comfort. But he did not want to intrude. So he quietly stepped back into the shadows and went back to his rooms. He missed his friends, especially now, among strangers. He chased the sad thoughts away, thinking about the battle ahead of him.  
  
  
  
**  
  
The next morning arrived with no sunshine. The cloud had darkened all the land; even the air seemed heavy and dark. Merry stood up and went to the King's chambers. Theoden, Eomer, Eowyn, the knights, and the messenger from Gondor were there.  
  
The king's face was clouded. "War has already begun," he said. "But at least there is no longer need for hiding. We will ride the straight way and the open road and with all our speed. The muster shall begin at once, and wait for no one. Have you good store in Minas Tirith? For if we must ride now in all haste, then we must ride light, with but meal and water enough to last us into battle." The messenger from Gondor nodded. "We have very great store long prepared. Ride now as light and as swift as you may, sir!"  
  
"Then call the heralds, Eomer," said Theoden. "Let the Riders be summoned!"  
  
Before the King left the chamber to prepare himself for the ride, he turned to Merry. "I am going to war, Master Meriadoc. In a little while I shall take the road. I release you from my service, but not from my friendship. You shall stay here, and if you will, you shall serve the Lady Eowyn, who will govern Edoras in my absence." "But, but, Sire," Merry, stammered, "I offered you my sword. I do not want to part from you like this, my King. And as all my friends have gone to the battle I should be ashamed to stay behind." "Brave hobbit, we ride on horses tall and fast, and great though your heart be, you cannot ride on such beasts. But at the least you shall ride with me so far as your pony Stybba can bear you. The great race will not begin till we reach the plains," said Theoden, giving to the hobbit a smile that showed his great fondness. Then Eowyn stood up. "Come now, Master Hobbit," she said, "I will show you the gear that I have prepared for you. Aragorn requested of me that you should be armed for battle." She led Merry to the armory of the king's guard and there an armorer brought out to her a small helm, a round shield, and other gear.  
  
"We do not have a set of mail that would fit you," said Eowyn, "nor any time for forging such a hauberk; but here is also a stout leather jerkin, a belt, and a knife. A sword you have."  
  
Merry thanked to Eowyn and bowed deeply.  
  
"Take all these things," she said, "and bear them to good fortune! Farewell now, Master Merry! Maybe we shall meet again, you and I." Merry looked up into the beautiful face and said, "I wish you good fortune as well, Milady. May all the sorrow in your heart be gone soon." Eowyn looked at him in surprise, and then smiled sadly. Then she walked away.   
  
  
  
**  
  
Eomer wanted to say goodbye to Eowyn before he left for war and possible death. He found her in the stables, seeing that Theoden's steed, Snowmane, was being prepared. "Eowyn, I wish a word with you," Eomer said. He was ready to leave. She turned to him. "Of course, brother," she said and walked with him outside the stables. "Sister, this will be a hard battle. I don't know if we will come back. But I want you to know that whatever happens, I love you deeply. Be strong and be happy, beloved." Eowyn felt tears stinging her eyes. She embraced her brother and he held her tight, trying to show her all the love he felt for her. She refused to cry. They were Rohirrim. "Promise me one thing, Eomer," she whispered. "Yes, sister?" he asked. "Live," she said. The Marshall held her close once again. "I will do my best, sister. I will see you after we vanquished Sauron. Farewell, Lady of Rohan." "Farewell, Marshall of Rohan."  
  
**  
  
Soon the Army of Rohan was ready to depart. Theoden and Eomer rode at the head of the muster. Merry and the messenger of Gondor rode next to them. The people of Edoras gathered to see their men off to war. Hearts were heavy and many waited in the shadow. But they were stern people, loyal to their King, and little weeping or murmuring was heard. Doom hung over them, but they faced it silently and resolutely.   
  
The King's and his entourage rode past the long ranks of waiting soldiers with stern and unmoved faces. But when they had come almost to the end of the line one face looked up glancing keenly at Merry. A young man, the hobbit thought as he returned the glance, less in height and build than most. He caught the look of clear gray eyes; and then he shivered, for it seemed to him that it was the face of one without hope who goes in search of death. **   
  
  
  
They rode until they reached the plains, and there Theoden spoke to Merry. "This is no journey for such steeds as Stybba, as I have told you, and in such a battle as we think to make on the fields of Gondor what would you do, Master Meriadoc, swordthain though you be, and greater of heart than of stature?"p "As for that, who can tell?" answered Merry. "But why, lord, did you receive me as swordthain, if not to stay by your side? And I would not have it said of me in song only that I was always left behind!" "I received you for your safe-keeping," answered Theoden, "and also to do as I might bid. None of my Riders can bear you as burden. I will say no more." Merry bowed and went away unhappily, and watching the lines of horsemen. Unnoticed a walking Rider came up and spoke softly in the hobbit's ear. "You wish to go wherever the Lord of the Mark goes: I see it in your face." Merry looked up in the face of the young soldier he had seen earlier. "I do," he said. "Then you shall go with me," said the soldier. "I will bear you before me, under my cloak until we are far into the plains, and this darkness is upon us. Such good will and bravery should not be denied. Say no more to any man, but come!"  
  
"Thank you indeed!" said Merry. "Thank you, sir, though I do not know your name."   
  
"Do you not?" said the Rider softly. "Then call me Dernhelm."   
  
**  
  
  
  
Eowyn looked back to see Merry walking as fast as his short legs allowed him, to keep up with her long strides. She was doing her best effort to appear as a young warrior rather than the Lady of Rohan. If the hobbit had not recognized her, she felt safe with her disguise.  
  
Nobody knew who Dernhelm was, except the captain of her group, Elfhelm. He had accepted her presence due to the friendship that bound him with Eowyn and Cyrene, himself having ridden with the Amazon more than once.   
  
He respected their fighting skills and courage and understood Eowyn's longing for battle. He was taking the greatest risk of all; if Eomer or Theoden found out he was assisting Eowyn in her ruse, Elfhelm would be dismissed from his command and most likely disgrace himself with the King and the Marshall.  
  
  
  
To avoid further risk of recognition, Eowyn, or rather Dernhelm, stayed away from the other riders, under the pretense of taking care of her steed Windfola.  
  
If she had been perfectly discrete about this disguise, she would have left the hobbit behind, but she just could not. She had seen herself in the expression in Merry's eyes: the sorrow and frustration of being left behind and not being able to heed the wishes of one's heart. That was why she had volunteered to hide and share her mount with him.  
  
  
  
She mounted the little man on Windfola and mounted up herself, hiding him in the folds of her cloak. They had a long and hard ride ahead of them.  
  
**  
  
After four days riding hard, Eowyn felt deeply sorry for the hobbit. It was clear that he wasn't used to riding, unlike herself or the Rohirrim, and the army of the Riddermark had made as few pauses as possible on their way to Minas Tirith. The darkness had settled over the land, making almost no difference between night and day, except for a faint glow that made the days lighter than the black nights. This was their last pause; they were one-day ride from Minas Tirith and Theoden had sent scouts out to prepare his approach on the city.   
  
She observed the small figure of Merry curled up on the ground, and, looking around to assure herself that nobody watched her, she walked over to him and laid the blanket closer about him. Eowyn then retreated quickly. The halfling had made an effort to speak to her but she had kept her silence, for fear of being discovered and because she was busy with her own dark thoughts.  
  
How far would her disguise hold once she was engaged in the battle? Would she be able to hold herself in the midst of it? She made no fantasies. Eowyn had never engaged in a real battle before, but she had been trained for it and she would defend herself and bring as many enemies as possible down with her. Still, Eowyn admitted silently that she had no hope as to surviving the fight. Men stronger and with far more experience than her would die in this war.  
  
Despite the likelihood of death, however, Eowyn was not afraid. She did feel deep regret for not having known most beauties of life, most importantly love.  
  
  
  
Eowyn recounted in her head the blessings the gods had given her in her life: Theoden, her kind uncle, who had taken care of Eomer and her when their parents died; Eomer, her proud and loving brother; Cyrene, her best friend and companion, the one who had opened her eyes beyond the limitations or her state and her gender; the people of Edoras, who had always given her love and admiration; and last, but not least, Aragorn, Isildur's Heir, the one who had touched her heart and then rejected her girlish attachment to him, making her understand that she had to make her own decisions if she didn't want to be a pawn in others' games.   
  
Life had been good, but if only she could have known true love . She shook her head. She had made her choice about her fate on her own, and that was the meaning of true freedom.   
  
  
  
**  
  
Elfhelm called his group together: Theoden had ordered them to ride at once, for the Minas Tirith stood in flames. They felt the tension in the air. No one spoke; the hours passing slowly while the surrounding darkness grew tinged with the red glow of a huge fire, and as they approached the White City, they saw it burn.   
  
Theoden addressed his Army. "The hour has come, Riders of the Mark, sons of Eorl! The enemy and fire are before you, and your homes far behind. Yet, though you fight upon a foreign field, the glory that you earn there shall be your own forever. Oaths you have taken: now fulfill them all, to lord and land and league of friendship!"   
  
The soldiers clashed their spears upon their shields in applause, and then they rode towards the walls of the burning city. They soon reached the outer walls. Wild cries broke out, and there was some clash of arms, but it was brief. The orcs standing by the walls were few and amazed, and they were quickly slain or driven off.   
  
Dernhelm kept close to the king, though Elfhelm's company was away on the right. Merry peered from behind Dernhelm's back, no longer wholly covered by Dernhelm's cloak. Now silently the warriors of Rohan moved forward into the field of Gondor, pouring in slowly but steadily. A smell of burning was in the air; the shadow of death hung over the plain. The horses were uneasy. But the king sat upon Snowmane, motionless, gazing upon the agony of Minas Tirith, as if stricken suddenly by anguish, or by dread. Theoden seized a great horn from his banner-bearer, and he blew such a blast upon it that it burst asunder. And straightway all the horns in the host were lifted up in music, and the blowing of the horns of Rohan in that hour was like a storm upon the plain and a thunder in the mountains. "Ride now, ride now! Ride to Gondor!"  
  
Eowyn commended her soul to the Gods and drew her sword. Merry did the same and their eyes met over her shoulder.   
  
"We shall be victorious or die, my friend," and saying this, Eowyn spurred Windfola towards the battle.  
  
*** 


	24. Chapter Twenty Four: PELARGIR

Title: In the midst of adversity  
  
Author: Claudia (Maram68)  
  
Rating: R  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own any of J.R.R. Tolkien's characters or settings, even if I love them as if they were my own. The idea and Cyrene are mine, only mine.  
  
Author's note : Thanks as usual and all my love to Viv, my dear llama- sorceress, the better half of my brain!  
  
Also to the Fic Chicks/Usual Suspects, for their love and support.  
  
To all who review and keep the muse alive!  
  
Love,  
  
Claudia  
  
  
  
Chapter XXIV: Pelargir  
  
Gimli, Legolas, Cyrene and the Amazons joined Aragorn and the Dunedaín in Lebennin.  
  
Aragorn welcomed them and greeted with due deference the Amazon warriors. They looked fierce and dangerous, their armor, shields, and weapons shining bright in daylight. Cyrene especially was impressive, wearing proudly the gear and armor befitting her station as a princess and commander, but the whole group of the hundred Amazons seemed a sight from the old legends. Cyrene dismounted before Aragorn and greeted him by closing her fist over her heart and bowing her head. All hundred Amazons did the same, almost moving as one.  
  
"Milord, here we are, fulfilling the oath given to your allies, the Rohirrim, centuries ago. You may order, and we will follow," she said to him.  
  
Aragorn acknowledged her saying, "I am thankful to the Elbereth to count on the bravery and prowess of the Amazons fighting by my side, Cyrene. We will ride on to Pelargir."  
  
She nodded to him and they mounted up again. The Amazons ordered themselves behind the Dunedaín. But they kept their distance from the men. Cyrene sent Aella to ride by the warriors while she stayed in the leading group that rode with Aragorn.  
  
Looking back to their joined forces, Aragorn wondered at the distance that the women kept from the Gray Company. Cyrene followed his eyes and smiled, answering to his unspoken question, "Milord, the Amazons haven't fought side-by-side with men for generations. We more often fight against them. So I beg you to understand us. But we will not fail you in battle."  
  
"I am sure you and your warriors will stand your ground, Cyrene. But now I understand at once that not every Amazon is used to riding next to men and I am very fortunate to have you by my side," Aragorn replied. He saw now that Cyrene's face was drawn and exhausted, and there was an aura of sadness around her that hadn't been there before they parted. And when he looked towards Legolas, he saw the same in his friend's eyes, since the elf was watching them from afar.  
  
He cursed Sauron and the circumstances that brought all this pain upon his friends and some of the most valuable people in Middle Earth. His thoughts wandered to Rivendell and the love of his life, Arwen Evenstar. All he had left was hope, and he wished he could give it to Cyrene and Legolas, but all he saw ahead was blood and fire.  
  
**  
  
The Gray Company and the Amazons were followed by the Army of the Dead, and wherever they passed all people fled. The only ruler who dared to ride out to meet them was the Lord of Lamedon. And upon swearing alliance to Isildur's Heir in his fight against the forces of Sauron, the men of Lamedon rode behind the Army of the Dead.  
  
As they arrived at Pelargir, they saw that the Float of the Corsairs of Umbar lay ashore, and Aragorn knew they had to conquer the ships to reach Minas Tirith in time.  
  
He gathered Halbarad, Elrohir; Elladan, Legolas, Gimli, Cyrene and Angbor, Lord of Lamedon.  
  
"We have to take over the ships of the pirates to have the means to get to Gondor as fast as possible. We have to take them over unharmed," he explained.  
  
"Milord, the Corsairs have been our foes for generations. Please let us lead the attack," said Cyrene.  
  
Aragorn nodded, but continued, "You may lead the attack, my friend, but we have to think this very thoroughly and with wit, because they are thrice our numbers . unless ."  
  
"Unless what, Elessar?" asked Elrohir.  
  
"Unless we lead them into a trap and we leave the Corsairs in the hands of the Army of the Dead."  
  
No one replied. They had tried hard to ignore the existence of the ghostly force riding behind them. It was as if a chilling breeze was blowing constantly on their necks, the shadow-soldiers always a presence out of the corner of their eyes.  
  
Halbarad nodded and so did all the warriors present, one after the other.  
  
"You order and we will follow, Elessar," said Legolas.  
  
And Aragorn began setting out the risky plan that had formed in his head.  
  
**  
  
Cyrene trusted Aragorn. Else she would not risk her warriors to the scheme that he had thought out for the attack on the pirates. She turned away from the gathering and started walking towards the Amazons' camp. Suddenly, she halted in mid-stride. Legolas stood in front of her, leaning against a tree. They were alone and out of sight of the others.  
  
He looked at her, his deep blue eyes scanning her face, and Cyrene felt her heart beat wildly in her chest. By the Goddess, he had so much power over her.  
  
She smiled at him, all thought about the fight ahead blown away like clouds in a strong wind. But Cyrene did not dare to cross the few paces that separated her from him. Once he touched her she would be lost.  
  
Legolas continued watching her, not moving. He was dying to hold her, feel her against him and reassure himself she was all right; he had been so close to losing her. But she had to take the first step.  
  
Cyrene sighed loudly, trying to rein in her raging emotions and set her priorities. Torn between her mind and her heart, her disciplined mind took over and won the battle.  
  
"I have missed you, Legolas," she said softly, but she did not walk to where he stood.  
  
Legolas saw the stubborn set of her jaw and understood. Cyrene was fighting inside, and he would not force her.  
  
"My heart longs to be close to you, amaelamin. But I know that you have other worries in your mind. Are you well? How is your wound?" he asked her.  
  
"I am well. Don't fret about me. How is Gimli?" she asked, trying to speak of other matters.  
  
Legolas grinned at her. "As saddle-sore as ever. We rode hard, and he still cannot get used to it. I may suggest he ride with Aella: that could make him more agreeable to it."  
  
Cyrene laughed at that. "Aella seems to be very interested in Gimli. I am sure she would be a welcome challenge for him, and he would be good for her as well. She said she will stay by me, whether I return to the island or not. Do you think they could be together? Would Gimli ever consider being with her even though she is an Amazon?"  
  
"I do not think that the choices of the heart are bound to reason. There are as many chances of them succeeding together as there are for an Amazon and an elf having a future to share," Legolas said softly. He took one step towards her. He needed the reassurance of her touch, her skin, before being able to go on into the fight.  
  
But Cyrene did not trust herself enough to let him touch her. She shook her head. "I cannot discuss this now, Legolas. I have duties and responsibilities. And the Amazons always comply with their duties. I bid you a safe journey; my heart goes with you." Then she turned and left without looking back. She did not dare to look at him again, because tears were slowly running down her face, and Amazons did not cry.  
  
***  
  
The scheme was not complicated: the Amazons would silently go aboard one of the ships and lure the pirates to the shore. They would be supported by the bows of the elves and the Dunedain. Once they tricked the Corsairs closer to the shore, Aragorn would call the Army of the Ghosts.  
  
It was dark night as Aragorn, Elladan, and Halbarad stood watching Cyrene and Aella choose two dozen Amazon warriors out of the group. Then Cyrene and the chosen fighters took off their cloaks, outer tunics, and heavy armor and left it all on the ground. Their part of the plan required them to swim to the ships, climb into the smallest one, and take it over.  
  
Cyrene stood in front of Aella, clad in only her light tunic, her sword and labryss at her waist, a long dagger strapped to her calf. All the chosen amazons were in light gear as well.  
  
"Cyrene, you should let me lead this mission," said Aella. She appeared to be adjusting Cyrene's sword, but she was securing the bandage over her friend's wound.  
  
The commander smiled at Aella. "You now I cannot. I am the better swimmer and sailor, my sister. And I need you to stay behind, just in case you have to lead the remaining warriors to Gondor. Do not fret, Aella. With the Goddess's help, I will return shortly," she said, saluting her friend and turning then to Aragorn. "We will see you, Milord, once the fight is over. May the Goddess be with you."  
  
She walked to the shore, and made a sign to the Amazons who would swim with her. From the corner of her eye, she saw Legolas approach the shore as well. He had also shed his armor and outer tunic, and now wore only his leggings, shirt and his two swords fastened at his back. A long knife was at his waist and he walked purposefully towards her. He looked at her and at the other women and asked simply, "Shall we?"  
  
Cyrene turned to Aragorn, who nodded. She could not begin an argument with the elf right now. And she did not want to. Turning to her warriors, she made the sign and they dived into the waters of the Anduin. Before taking the dive herself, she looked at Legolas, and their eyes met. Cyrene managed a smile before plunging into the river.  
  
They swam against the current, towards the smallest ship anchored. Once they had reached it, Cyrene divided the group and they began the climb on the ropes and chains of the anchors.  
  
The Amazons and the elf climbed easily, silently, and they met on the deck of the ship, because the pirates did not suspect any attack and felt safe in their vessels.  
  
At a silent gesture, the Amazons fell upon the corsairs on the deck, their swords drawn, and in a matter of moments, they were facing their sworn enemies aiming to take the vessel.  
  
Cyrene's sword slashed of its own volition; the dance of battle was second nature to her, and she fell into the steps easily. She did not even notice the gore oozing down her sword arm or the slight nick in her shoulder. Legolas kept an eye on her, but he recognized her prowess and focused on the corsairs attacking him. The Amazons around him were formidable foes, and soon the ship's crew was either dead or turning themselves over to their enemies' mercy. The Amazons spared no mercy for their ancient foes.  
  
Legolas approached Cyrene. "Cyrene, they are surrendering ."  
  
She turned to him, her face a mask of impassivity. "Legolas, you might not understand this, but these are the creatures who torture, rape and sell my people into slavery. I know no mercy for them."  
  
A young Amazon approached them. "Mistress, the ships are moving towards us. Shall we set sail?"  
  
"Yes, full sail towards the shore. And make light-signals to Lord Aragorn: we are bringing in the prey, now he should seal the trap," she instructed.  
  
Cyrene looked to the shore and caught her breath. The Ghost Army crested the horizon, and all she could do was watch  
  
**  
  
The Army of the Forsworn Ghosts came up like a gray tide, sweeping all away before it. It was like the echo of some forgotten battle in the Dark Years long ago. Pale swords were drawn; it mattered not whether their blades would still bite, for the Dead needed no longer any weapon but fear. None would withstand them.  
  
They came to every ship anchored there, passing over the water, and all the sailors were filled with madness and terror and jumped overboard, except the slaves chained to the oars.  
  
The joined forces of Dunedain, Amazons, and men from Lamedon rode among the fleeing foes, driving them like leaves before a gale, until they reached the shore.  
  
Before the end of that dark day none of the enemy were left to resist: they were drowned or on the run, fleeing south in the hope of reaching their own lands.  
  
The black fleet was in Aragorn's hands; and he chose the biggest ship to be his flagship. At the sound of trumpets taken from the enemy, the Shadow Army withdrew to the shore. There they stood silent, hardly to be seen, save for a red gleam in their eyes that caught the glare of the burning ships they had to leave behind.  
  
And Aragorn spoke in a loud voice to the Forsworn Warriors: "Hear now the words of the Heir of Isildur! Your oath is fulfilled. Go back and trouble not the valleys ever again! Depart and be at rest! "  
  
Swiftly the ghosts turned away and vanished like a mist dispersed by a sudden wind, disappearing as if they had been only a dream.  
  
During that evening and night the corsairs' ships were made ready and manned; and in the morning the fleet set off.  
  
The river seemed tranquil even though the skies were darkening by the hour. The threatening clouds came form Mordor, obscuring the moon and the stars.  
  
Aragorn looked up to the sky and knew they were running against time. They had to reach Minas Tirith as soon as possible.  
  
They were now sailing slowly up the Anduin. The sea-knowing men of the Ethir at the oars had announced a fresh wind from the Sea. But Aragorn was still restless, for he knew Minas Tirith might be lost when they arrived.  
  
***  
  
On the deck of the next ship, Gimli was quietly watching Legolas and Cyrene. The elf was leaning on the railing, drinking in the sight, smell, and sounds of the water beneath them. The salty air, the blue vastness, the freedom of the seagulls soaring high in the ocean breeze was enchanting him and pulling at his soul. And even though Legolas was not even looking towards the Amazon on the other side of the ship's deck, Gimli could almost feel his friend reaching out for the woman.  
  
The strong connection between them was dimmed by the circumstances of her having to avoid their company since she had taken the command of the Amazons. The other warrior women seemed to be unable to understand the elf's and Cyrene's relationship, except maybe for Aella.  
  
The short woman stood by her friend and commander night and day. And many times during the last two days, Aella's eyes had met Gimli's and there had been silent understanding.  
  
Indeed, Aella had even managed to get away for moments from Cyrene's side and go over to Legolas and Gimli to inquire about their well being, especially after the fight in Pelargir. The elf had asked if it would be proper to approach Cyrene in the same fashion, but Aella had said that Cyrene sent her regrets. The Amazon commander was looking over the minor wounds some of the Amazons had received. Seeing the disappointment on Legolas' face, Aella added that Cyrene was well and sent her friends her apologies and best wishes.  
  
After this, Legolas had turned even more silent and hadn't asked again, even though Aella continued to approach his group. She spoke mostly to Gimli, and the dwarf enjoyed the moments he shared with the little Amazon. But his heart hurt for the two friends who were now aching for each other but were forced apart by war and culture.  
  
Aella had sworn to Cyrene not to tell the truth. Cyrene was still weak and hurting from the wound on her side, and the attack at Pelargir had left her absolutely exhausted, which wasn't helped by her having to feign strength and health for the sake of her warriors. Aella had also noticed how much her friend was missing Legolas. Cyrene was suffering as much as the elf, but she had decided to resist the urge to be near him and throw all of the Amazon rules of behavior to the wind and shout to the world that she belonged with him.  
  
She was much too responsible to that, and she avoided him at all costs, though Aella saw the effort and longing take a toll on her friend's energy and health. Cyrene had slept badly the last two nights, and the meager but constant bleeding of the wound was weakening her body. She looked as if she belonged to the Forsworn Army herself.  
  
**  
  
Though the night sky was still darker than usual due to the clouds coming from Mordor, at midnight a strong and steady breeze filled the sails and sped up the journey to Minas Tirith. They could soon see the eerie red glow in the horizon that announced that the White City was in flames.  
  
Aragorn prayed to his forefathers that he would arrive in time to at least save the people and keep his promise to the dying Boromir.  
  
The last night before they engaged battle in Pelennor, few of the warriors slept.  
  
Gimli and Legolas stood silently on the deck of their ship again, watching the shadows gliding along the swift river as the ships steadily advanced on their way to Minas Tirith.  
  
Both were surprised when Aella emerged from the shadows, and without a single word she took Gimli's hand and led him away to where the crew's quarters were set under the deck.  
  
Gimli looked back at Legolas in annoyance and surprise, even with a hint of fear in his eyes, and the elf smiled to his friend. At least Gimli was going to have a good night before the battle that could cost his life.  
  
Legolas himself sat on the railing, looked out over the deck, and sighed. He did not see her familiar silhouette anywhere. But he could not allow himself the luxury of sorrow. He would put his emotions aside and prepare for the battle ahead.  
  
As usual, his keen elven hearing almost didn't register her approaching, but he waited until her cool hands settled on his shoulders, lightly caressing his neck.  
  
"Forgive me, Legolas," she whispered softly.  
  
"Forgive you?" he asked.  
  
"Yes, for putting everything else above what my heart is crying out for," Cyrene said.  
  
This gave Legolas all the hope he had been longing for. He reached out for her hands and kissed the palms. He felt her shiver and turned around to look at Cyrene.  
  
She looked tired. But the light he saw in her eyes shone for him, and it was the most beautiful sight in Middle Earth. Her love for him was still there.  
  
Legolas pulled her into his arms. "You need your rest, amaelamin. Tomorrow will be a hard day for all of us."  
  
"My Elf, I realized at last that I need you. No sleep, no food, nothing else but you next to me," Cyrene said.  
  
"And you have me, Cyrene, as long as you want me by your side. But now you will have your rest, and me as well," and saying this he swept her up into his arms and brought her to her pallet under the deck. He set her down and laid next to her gathering her into his arms.  
  
"Rest, amaelamin, I will guard your dreams," and he began to sing softly in elvish, smiling as he felt her relax in his embrace and her breathing become regular and deep. Her gathered her close to her chest and swore to himself: "I will guard you, my heart. No matter what, we will rise from the trial and survive in the midst of adversity."  
  
And Legolas Greenleaf, Prince of Mirkwood, lost himself in the depths of sleep. Dawn and battle would reach them soon enough.  
  
** 


	25. Chapter Twenty Five: SHIELDMAIDEN OF ROH...

Title: In the midst of adversity  
  
Author: Claudia (Maram68)  
  
Rating: R  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own any of J.R.R. Tolkien's characters or settings, even if I love them as if they were my own. The idea and Cyrene are mine, only mine.  
  
Author's note : Thanks and all my love to Viv, my dear llama-sorceress, the better half of my brain! Also to Deb, my dearest nut.  
  
To the Fic Chicks/Usual Suspects, for their love and support.  
  
To all who review and keep the muse alive, keep on going, we are not far from the end!  
  
Love,  
  
Claudia  
  
  
  
Chapter XXV: Shieldmaiden of Rohan  
  
Before the city walls of Minas Tirith, morning came with a strong wind  
  
from the sea that drove the dark clouds away, and the hosts of Mordor  
  
wailed. Terror overtaking them, the orcs fled or died.  
  
The Rohirrim sang as they slew: the joy of battle was on them, and the  
  
sound of their singing was fair and terrible. The music even reached the  
  
White City.  
  
Eowyn turned in her saddle to see if the hobbit was still holding on, and  
  
she smiled. Merry was gripping the saddle with his legs and slashing out  
  
with his right arm while he held the shield aloft with his left.  
  
Eowyn concentrated again on the mass of Orcs fleeing from the storming  
  
Rohirrim. She and Merry continued their path of blood and death; they had to  
  
reach the city.  
  
At the gates stood a mighty enemy, which they didn't see at first: the  
  
Witchking, Ringwraith, and Lord of the Nazgul. As he saw his troops fall under  
  
the hooves and swords of the Rohirrim, he left the gate of the city and  
  
vanished.  
  
**  
  
Theoden, King of the Mark, had reached the road that led to the River  
  
and commanded his riders through the mass of Orcs flying towards the  
  
Anduin, and the Rohirrim went on mowing their way through the enemy rows.  
  
But suddenly, in the midst of the triumph of the king a dark shadow fell  
  
on his golden shield. His knights' horses reared and screamed. Men were  
  
thrown from their saddles and lay groveling on the ground.  
  
"To me! To me!" cried Theoden. "Up Eorlingas! Fear no darkness!"  
  
But Snowmane went wild with terror and stood up on his hind legs, fighting  
  
with the air, and after a few seconds he crashed upon his side with a  
  
piercing scream: a black arrow had driven through him. The mighty steed  
  
fell, burying Theoden beneath him.  
  
A great shadow descended upon them like lightning. It was a winged  
  
creature, neither reptile nor bird. Black and horrible, it gave a mighty cry and settled upon the body of Snowmane, digging in with its claws, biting into the horse's long and naked neck.  
  
Upon the winged beast sat a shape, black-mantled, huge and threatening. He bore a crown of steel, but between rim and robe there was no face to be seen but a pair of deadly gleam of eyes: the Lord of the Nazgul.  
  
However, even in this dark hour the King of the Mark was not forsaken. Though his knights lay slain about him, or were carried away mounted on their terror-maddened mounts, one lonely figure stood there still: Eowyn, in her disguise as Dernhelm.  
  
The White Lady of Rohan stood faithful, beyond fear, and she wept for the  
  
only father she had known.  
  
**  
  
Through the charge of the Rohirrim towards the city gates, Eowyn and Merry  
  
had ridden unharmed, until the Shadow came. Windfola had thrown  
  
them in his terror, and ran wildly upon the plain.  
  
Merry was unconscious for a few minutes. Finally recovering from the fall, he  
  
thought that he heard Dernhelm speaking. Yet the voice seemed strange,  
  
reminding Merry of some other voice that he had known: Eowyn's.  
  
"Be gone, foul lord of carrion! Leave the dead in peace!" she said, standing her ground, stepping between the Witchking and the body of Theoden.  
  
An eerie voice answered, "Come not between the Nazgul and his prey! Or he  
  
will not slay you in return but bear you away to the houses of lamentation,  
  
beyond all darkness, where your flesh will be devoured, and the remains of  
  
your mind left naked to the Lidless Eye."  
  
A sword rang as it was drawn. Eowyn's pale face was set in determination as  
  
she straightened her stance, sword and shield ready in her hands.  
  
"Do what you will, but I will defend my liege, so long as I draw breath."  
  
"You dare to stand in my way? Young fool. No living man may detain me!"  
  
said the voice from inside the cloak.  
  
Then Merry heard of all sounds in that hour the strangest. It seemed that  
  
Dernhelm laughed, and the clear voice was like the ringing of steel against steel.  
  
"But you are not facing a living man! You look upon a woman. Eowyn I am, Eomund's daughter. You are threatening my lord and kin. Be gone, if you be  
  
not deathless! Be you living or dark undead, I will strike you if you dare to  
  
touch him."  
  
The winged creature screamed at her, but the Ringwraith did not answer. He was silent, as if of all a sudden he hesitated. There stood the one whom Merry had called Dernhelm.  
  
The helm that had shielded her secret had fallen from her, and her golden  
  
hair, released from its bonds, gleamed in the pale light of morning. Her eyes gray as the sea were hard, and yet tears were on her cheeks. A sword was in her hand, and she raised her shield against the horror of her enemy's eyes.  
  
Eowyn it was, and Dernhelm also. Deep affection filled the hobbit's heart  
  
and great wonder, and suddenly the slow-kindled courage of his race awoke.  
  
He clenched his hand. She should not die, so fair, so desperate. At least  
  
she should not die alone, unaided.  
  
The face of their enemy was not turned towards him, but still he hardly  
  
dared to move, dreading the deadly eyes if they should fall on him. Slowly,  
  
he began to crawl aside, but the Lord of the Nazgul, in doubt and observing  
  
with malice the woman before him, did not heed the halfling.  
  
Suddenly the great beast beat its hideous wings, leaping into the air, and  
  
then swiftly fell down upon Eowyn, shrieking, striking with beak and claw.  
  
Still she did not move an inch: maiden of the Rohirrim, child of kings,  
  
slender as a steel-blade, fair but terrible. A swift stroke she dealt,  
  
skilled and deadly.  
  
The outstretched neck she clove asunder, and the hewn head fell like a stone.  
  
Backward she sprang as the huge shape crashed to ruin, vast wings outspread, crumpled on the earth; and with its fall the shadow passed away.  
  
Light fell about her, and her hair shone in the sunrise.  
  
From the beast's corpse rose the Black Rider, tall and threatening,  
  
towering above her. With a cry of hatred he let fall his huge black mace.  
  
Her shield burst into many pieces, and her arm was broken; Eowyn fell to  
  
her knees.  
  
The Nazgul bent over her like a thundercloud, and his eyes glittered; he  
  
raised his mace to deliver the killing blow.  
  
But suddenly he too stumbled forward with a cry of pain, and his stroke  
  
went wide, driving into the ground.  
  
Merry's sword had stabbed him from behind, cutting through the black  
  
mantle, and passing up beneath the hauberk. It pierced the sinew behind the  
  
Witchking's mighty knee.  
  
"Eowyn! Eowyn!" cried Merry.  
  
The White Lady of Rohan staggered, forcing herself and struggling up. With  
  
her last strength she drove her sword between crown and mantle, and the  
  
great shoulders bowed before her. The sword broke, sparkling into many  
  
shards. The crown rolled away with a clang. Eowyn fell forward again, upon  
  
her defeated enemy. ***  
  
Merry's sight was hindered by the tears falling from his eyes. He stood in  
  
the midst of the slain and looked on Eowyn's golden head, as she lay and  
  
did not move. He looked on the face of the king, fallen in the midst of  
  
his glory.  
  
Merry knelt by Theoden, lifted his hand to kiss it, and the king opened his  
  
eyes. They were clear, and he spoke quietly.  
  
"Farewell, Master Hobbit!" he said. "My body is broken. I go to my fathers.  
  
And even in their mighty company I shall not now be ashamed. I felled the  
  
black serpent. A grim morn, a glad day, and a golden sunset!"  
  
Merry could not speak, but wept again. "Forgive me, milord, " he said at last,  
  
"If I disobeyed your command, and yet I have done no more in your service  
  
than to weep at our parting."  
  
The old king smiled. "Grieve not! It is forgiven. Greatness of heart will not be  
  
denied. Live now with all blessings, and when you sit in peace with your  
  
pipe, think of me! For never now shall I sit with you in Meduseld, as I promised, or listen to your herb-lore." He closed his eyes, and Merry bowed beside him.  
  
Theoden spoke yet again. "Where is Eomer? For my sight is darkening, and I  
  
would like to see him before I leave. He must be king after me. And I would send word to Eowyn. She, she would not have me leave her, and now I shall not see her again, dearest as a daughter."  
  
"Lord, lord," began Merry brokenly, "she is . . . " But at that moment there was a loud rambling, and horns and trumpets were blowing. The hobbit saw that they were in danger of being caught in the very midst of the great battle being fought.  
  
Eomer rode up in haste, and with him came the knights that had survived and had now mastered their horses. They looked in wonder at the carcass of the  
  
beast that lay there. Their steeds would not go nearer. But Eomer leaped from the saddle, and grief and dismay fell upon him as he came to the king's side and stood there in silence.  
  
Then, one of the knights took the king's banner from the hand of the banner- bearer who lay dead, and he lifted it up. Slowly Theoden opened his eyes. Seeing the banner, he made a sign that it should be given to Eomer.  
  
"Hail, King of the Mark!" he said. "Ride now to victory! Bid Eowyn farewell!" and so Theoden, King of the Rohirrim died. He never knew that Eowyn lay close, struck down while defending him. Eomer wept as he spoke. "Let his knights remain here," he said "and bear his body in honor from the field, or the battle will be held over it! "  
  
He then looked at the slain warriors, recalling their names. Suddenly he recognized his sister Eowyn on the ground. Eomer felt his heart plummet, and his face went deadly white. All what was dear to him, the only family left to him lay on the battleground. He knelt by his sister and lovingly smoothed the tangled golden locks from her face, as the tears ran  
  
down his pale cheeks.  
  
Cold fury rose in him.  
  
"Eowyn, Eowyn!" he cried at last. "Eowyn, how have you come here? What  
  
madness or foul devilry of the enemy is this? Death, death, death! Death take us all!"  
  
Then he set her head gently on the ground, jumped on his horse, and without looking back spurred headlong back to the front of the great host, and blew  
  
his war horn.  
  
Over the field rang his clear voice, calling, "Death! Ride, ride to ruin and the world's end!"  
  
And with that, the host began to move. But the Rohirrim sang no more.  
  
"Death," they cried as if one voice, loud and terrible, and gathering speed  
  
like a great tide, their battle swept about their fallen king and passed,  
  
roaring away southwards.  
  
**  
  
The bodies of Theoden and Eowyn were set upon stretchers and brought to the  
  
city. Merry, the loyal Hobbit, walked behind the soldiers carrying them to MinasTirith and tried to keep up with their pace, but he felt his strength draining  
  
from his body with every step he took. He concentrated on keeping himself  
  
walking on.  
  
The prince Imrahil was leaving the city as he encountered the entourage of  
  
Rohirrim soldiers. He presented his respects to Theoden's corpse and as he curiously approached Eowyn's body, he noticed that there was still life in the torn body of the shield maiden and urged the warriors to bring her to the  
  
Houses of Healing.  
  
The retinue walked faster towards the top of the city, overlooking the  
  
small hobbit in their haste.  
  
Exhaustion crept up in him and confused his senses so far that somewhere  
  
inside the city he fell behind of the party escorting the King and Lady of  
  
Rohan and got lost in a side street.  
  
Once he recognized he had strayed away, he just sat down on a doorstep and  
  
let despair take hold of him.  
  
"All is lost. I have failed. Those who I was supposed to serve and aid are  
  
gone and I have lost track of my friends. I will not see the Shire again,"  
  
he said to himself, wishing to stay where he sat and just let himself drift into sleep and oblivion, while he wept.  
  
Suddenly a well-known and sorely missed voice broke through the fog of his anguish... "Well, Merry! Thank goodness I have found you! I thought we would never meet again in the uproar of battle and grievance around here!"  
  
Merry looked up to his friend and the mist before his eyes cleared a  
  
little. There was PippinTook, standing by his side. "Where have they taken? the king?" he said. "And Eowyn?"  
  
"They have been brought up into the Citadel, to the Houses of Healing"  
  
said Pippin. "I think you must have fallen asleep on your feet and taken  
  
the wrong turning. When we found out that you were not with them, Gandalf sent me to look for you. Poor old Merry! How glad I am to see you again! But you are worn out, and surely not fit for any talk. Tell me, are you hurt, or wounded?"  
  
"No, I don't think so, " said Merry,"But I can't use my right arm since I  
  
stabbed the Ringwraith. And my sword burned all away like a piece of wood."  
  
Pippin's face was anxious. "You stabbed a Ringwraith? Mighty brave thing to  
  
do, my Merry, that will be a tale to tell! Now, you better come with me and  
  
we will take care of you. My poor Merry, I wish I could carry you. You  
  
aren't fit to walk any further."  
  
Merry felt his head spinning and darkness closing in on him."Help me,  
  
Pippin! It's all going dark again, and my arm is so cold."  
  
"Lean on me, Merry!" said Pippin. "Come now! Step by step. It's not far."  
  
"Leave me be, dearest friend. Let me die and then bury me," said Merry.  
  
"No, I will not. Bury you? Of course not. Head up and let's keep on going,"  
  
said Pippin, trying to sound cheerful, though his heart was wrung with fear  
  
and pity. "We are going to the Houses of Healing."  
  
**  
  
The sun rose slowly over the fields of Pelennor, the faint rays falling on the weapons and shields of the warriors there, entangled in bloody combat.  
  
Under the south walls of the city the footmen of Gondor drove against the  
  
legions of Morgul that were still gathered there.  
  
The cavalry rode eastward to join the forces of Eomer: Húrin the Tall,  
  
Warden of the Keys and the Lord of Lossarnach, Hirluin of the Green  
  
Hills, and Prince Imrahil the Fair with his knights all about him.  
  
As the day began to turn against Gondor and their hope wavered a new cry went up in the city. It was then midmorning. A great wind blew, the rain flew north, and the sun shone.  
  
In that clear air watchmen on the walls saw afar a sight that filled them with fear, and their last hope left them.  
  
On the Anduin, the far-sighted could see ships that approached Minas  
  
Tirith. They cried in dismay; black against the glittering river they saw a fleet sailing up on the wind with dark sails billowing in the breeze.  
  
"The Corsairs of Umbar!" men shouted. "The Corsairs of Umbar! Look! The  
  
Corsairs of Umbar are coming! So Belfalas is taken, and the Ethir, and  
  
Lebennin are gone. The Corsairs are upon us! It is the last strike of doom!"  
  
Men inside the city ran to the bells and tolled the alarm; some blew  
  
the trumpets sounding the retreat.  
  
"Back to the walls!" they cried. "Back to the walls! Come back to the City  
  
before all are overwhelmed!" But the wind that sped the ships blew all  
  
their cries away.  
  
The Rohirrim indeed had no need of news or alarm. All too well they could  
  
see for themselves the black sails. For Eomer was now scarcely a mile from  
  
the Harlond, and a great mass of his first foes stood between him and the  
  
haven there, while new attackers came swirling behind, cutting him off from  
  
Prince Imrahil. He looked to the river, and hope died in his heart. He cursed the wind that he had blessed before.  
  
The hosts of Mordor found new strength and filled with a new lust and fury, they came yelling to the beleaguered Rohirrim.  
  
Eomer's face was set in stern lines, and his mind cleared. He let blow the horns to gather all free men to his banner, for he thought to make a great shield wall as a last stand and fight there on foot till all fell, though no man should be left in the West to remember the last King of the Mark.  
  
So Eomer rode to a green hill and there set his banner, and the White Horse  
  
ran rippling in the wind. Once more the fury of battle was on him; he was still unhurt, he was young, and he was king: the lord of the brave Rohirrim.  
  
Even as he laughed at despair he looked out again on the black ships, and  
  
he lifted up his sword to defy them.  
  
And then Eomer paused in wonder and great joy; he threw his sword up in the  
  
sunlight and sang as he caught it. All eyes followed his gaze, and saw upon  
  
the foremost ship a great banner unfurling in the wind as the vessel turned towards the city haven.  
  
There on the flagship flowered a White Tree, and that was for Gondor; but  
  
seven stars were about it, and a high crown above it: the signs of Elendil  
  
that no lord had borne for years beyond count.  
  
Aragorn, son of Arathorn, Elessar, Isildur's heir, out of the Paths of the  
  
Dead, borne aloft on a wind from the sea to the kingdom of Gondor, was  
  
arriving just in time to turn the tide of events.  
  
The Rohirrim broke out in a torrent of laughter and a flashing of swords, and the joy and wonder of the city was translated into music of trumpets and a ringing of bells. The hosts of Mordor were caught in bewilderment, and it seemed a great wizardry to them that their own ships should be filled with their foes.  
  
They were struck by panic, knowing that the tides of fate had turned  
  
against them and their doom was at hand.  
  
**  
  
Aboard the approaching ships, Aragorn and his forces were ready to engage  
  
in combat.  
  
As Aragorn saw the burnt walls of Minas Tirith, the fire still licking the buildings, he felt his heart torn in pain and pride. The city of his ancestors stood still despite the power of its attackers, proud, like the white Towers which silhouette was standing untouched against the landscape.  
  
Isildur's Heir looked at Elladan and Elrohir, Halbarad and the Dunedain  
  
standing on the deck, ready to ride into the battle.  
  
It was a moment for decision. He, the last of his line, would save the  
  
city and kingdom his forefather had betrayed for power centuries before him.  
  
Or die in the effort.  
  
Close to his, the flagship of the small fleet, he could see the next vessel, where the Amazons, Legolas and Gimli were prepared to join the fight as well. Though Aragorn had no keen elven sight, the ship was close enough for him to recognize the figures on the deck.  
  
Gimli's stout form stood next to a red haired small Amazon, in her battle  
  
gear. A smile curved his lips, and Aragorn's eyes sought his other friend. Legolas' lithe form stood by the Amazon princess Cyrene, both alert at the  
  
ship's helm, watching towards the battle that was being fought on the land.  
  
Then the woman's hand briefly caressed the elf's face and the elven warrior pulled Cyrene close, kissing her, for all to see. Aragorn turned his eyes away from the couple and raised them to the sky,  
  
praying to all elven and human deities for their help and protection in the  
  
battle ahead of them. By the sight of the battlefield, they would need all  
  
the aid they could get.  
  
His time had arrived.  
  
*** 


	26. Chapter Twenty Six: OF LOYALTY AND GUILT

Title: In the midst of adversity  
  
Author: Claudia (Maram68)  
  
Rating: R  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own any of J.R.R. Tolkien's characters or settings, even if I love them as if they were my own. The idea and Cyrene are mine, only mine.  
  
Author's note: Thanks and all my love to Viv, my dear llama-sorceress, the better half of my brain! Also to Deb, my dearest nut.  
  
To the Fic Chicks/Usual Suspects, for their love and support.  
  
To all who review and keep the muse alive, keep on going, you make this happen!  
  
Love,  
  
Claudia  
  
  
  
Chapter XXVI: Of Loyalty and Guilt  
  
As the fleet of Aragorn's forces hit the land, the fate of the battle was decided. Eomer rode south, and the enemy fled before him and his knights. The foes were caught between the hammer and the anvil, between the forces leaping from the ships to the quays of the Harland, plowing their ranks to the north like a storm, and the onslaught of the mounted Rohirrim.  
  
There came Legolas and Gimli, with Cyrene leading the amazons, cutting the air with their war cries. From the next vessel leaped Halbarad with the standard, and Elladan and Elrohir with stars on their brows, and the brave Dúnedain and the warriors of the people of Lebennin and Lamedon and the fiefs of the South. Leading them into the fight rode Aragorn wielding Andúril, reforged of the shards of Narsil, as deadly as of old, and on his forehead was the Star of Elendil.  
  
Aragorn gave the sign and his army deployed, cutting the enemy down like wheat on the field. The surprise and panic as the Dark Army recognized their situation made the task easier, and the fresh warriors of Aragorn made their way towards the Rohirrim fighters.  
  
Eomer and Aragorn met in the midst of the battle, leaned on their swords to catch their breaths, and looked to each other.  
  
"We meet again, Eomer of the Mark, though all the hosts of Mordor lay between us," said Aragorn. "Did I not say so at the Hornburg when we parted?"  
  
"So you spoke," said Eomer, "but hope often deceives, and I knew then not that you were a man foresighted. Twice blessed is help unlooked for, and never was a meeting of friends more joyful." And they clasped their hands to their forearms in greeting. "Nor has ever help arrived more timely, my friend," continued Eomer. "Much loss and sorrow has befallen us."  
  
By then, the amazons had also reached the hill where Aragorn and Eomer had met. Cyrene pulled her helmet off her head and greeted Eomer, placing her closed fist over her heart.  
  
"We are here, Marshall of the Mark. I recognize that you carry the banner of Theoden son of Thengel, and I fear that my liege, the King of Rohan, has fallen in battle. Is that so, Milord Eomer?"  
  
Eomer was both overjoyed and hit once again by grief as he saw Cyrene. He wanted to pull Cyrene closer and embrace her in search for comfort, for when he saw her; all his loss was upon him again. Eowyn, the light of his days, and Theoden, King and almost a father to him, were dead.  
  
His eyes filled with unshed tears as he bowed his head to Cyrene and spoke, "It is true, Cyrene, my sister. Theoden has fallen in battle against a beast of the evil Lord. And fighting by his side has also fallen Eowyn, Lady of Rohan."  
  
Cyrene had many times confronted death in battle of those close to her and had learned to bear it with courage and control. But as Eomer's words fell on her ears, she felt as if her heart had been ripped out and she staggered, grasping at her hair and letting out a heart-wrenching scream.  
  
Legolas, fighting almost hundred feet away from her heard the scream and knew it was Cyrene, and turned to where it came from. His heart stopped at the grief and despair of the scream, and he knew he had to get to her. He swung around and continued felling orcs, charging now towards the spot where Eomer, Aragorn, and Cyrene stood.  
  
Eomer pulled Cyrene into his arms and held her, trembling by the force of the grief himself. She did not resist, the pain of loosing Eowyn taking over her senses. "I do not know how my sister came to be here, Cyrene, but she was at my uncle's side and fell fighting against a winged creature of Mordor," he said softly.  
  
"We agreed to meet here, Milord. Eowyn was fulfilling her promise to me. And I was not there to protect and aid her. It is my fault," said Cyrene, her voice loaded with regret and self-loathing.  
  
Cyrene pushed Eomer gently away, running her hand lightly across the man's cheek; the eyes she set on his hard and full of unspoken pain.  
  
"We will talk about this after we have driven the Evil Lord from this place, Eomer. For I will not rest until we have avenged their deaths."  
  
"Princess Cyrene is right, Eomer. Let us avenge it, instead of speaking of it!" said Aragorn, and they rode back to battle together.  
  
Legolas saw from afar the interlude between Cyrene and Eomer, and the elf fought the feeling of jealousy running through him. Whatever had happened, it was related to Eomer and it had hurt Cyrene to the bone.  
  
He saw her pull her helmet back on and swing her sword out of its scabbard on her back again, returning to where the amazons were fighting. Cyrene stormed into the fight, slashing left and right with ferocity and hate, dismissing her own defense. The Amazon was thirsty for blood and was not even covering her own back as she advanced like a machine through the lines of orcs and men, felling the enemies with accuracy and speed. Cyrene was out to kill, and she did not care if she died.  
  
Legolas saw the petite form of Aella gripping a sword in her left and her labryss in her right hand, defending Cyrene's unprotected back as her friend continued killing like a berserker. He retreated then to where Gimli was still fighting and resolved to help his friend in his task. He felt Cyrene's pain as if it was his own. He hoped they would survive to the end, to be able to help her bear whatever was hurting her so badly. And move on with life.  
  
The joined forces defending Gondor had still hard fighting and long labor before them, for the Southrons were fierce in their despair and the Easterlings were strong and war-hardened and willing to leave their lives on the battle ground. They gathered and rallied and fought until the day wore away.  
  
At sunset the grass of the Pelennor lay red, soaked with the blood of friend and foe. In that hour the great Battle of Gondor was over; and not one living foe was left. All had been slain save those who fled to die, or to drown in the red foam of the Anduin. Few ever came eastward to Morgul or Mordor; and to the land of the Haradrim came only a tale from far off: a rumor of the wrath and terror of Gondor.  
  
***  
  
There was group of warriors riding towards the Gate of the City, and they were now weary beyond joy or sorrow, Prince Imrahil, Eomer, Aragorn, Cyrene, Legolas and Gimli were among them. These were unscathed, except for bruises and cuts, which warriors where used to, and they owed it to their fortune and their prowess in battle. Many others, too many, were hurt or maimed or dead upon the field.  
  
No few had fallen, renowned or nameless, captain and soldier; men and amazons, for it had been a great and terrible battle and the full count of it was never told.  
  
As the sun went down, the riders reached the City; and when they came before the Gate, Aragorn said, "This City and realm have rested in the charge of the Stewards for many long years, and I fear that if I enter it unbidden, then doubt and debate may arise, which should not be while this war is fought. I will not enter it nor make any claim, until it be seen whether we or Mordor shall prevail. I will rise my tents upon the field, and here I will await the welcome of the Lord of Minas Tirith."  
  
Eomer said: "You have already raised the banner of the Kings and displayed the tokens of Elendil's House. It was by your intervention that the White City still stands. Do you expect to be challenged?"  
  
"No," said Aragorn. "But the time is unripe; and I have no mind for any fight except with our enemy and his servants."  
  
Then Prince Imrahil said, bowing his head to Aragorn," Your words, lord, are wise. If I, who am kinsman of the Lord Denethor may counsel you in this matter, he is strong-willed and proud, but old, and his mood has been strange since his son was stricken down. Yet I would not have you remain like a beggar at the city's door."  
  
"Not a beggar," said Aragorn, "But a captain of the Rangers, who are unused to cities and houses of stone." He commanded that his banner should be furled, and then he untied the star bound to his forehead and gave it to the keeping of the sons of Elrond.  
  
Prince Imrahil and Eomer of Rohan rode on to the city. Cyrene didn't hesitate, and, bowing her head to Aragorn and to Legolas and Gimli, she followed Eomer, not looking behind even once. She did not want Legolas to see her shame and guilt. She had almost failed him in The Paths of Death. She would not do so again.  
  
Legolas watched her leave. He understood that she had to: she was now Eomer's vassal and one of his captains. But he still wanted to know what had broken her heart in the battle. He sighed loudly, which drew a strange look from Gimli, and followed Aragorn towards the site of their camp. He determined not to think about Cyrene and Eomer together.  
  
**  
  
Imrahil, Eomer, and Cyrene passed through the gate and the tumult of people, and rode up to the Citadel. They came to the Hall of the Tower, seeking the Steward. But the Steward was not there, and before the dais lay Theoden King of the Mark upon a bed of state with twelve torches and twelve guards, knights both of Rohan and Gondor, standing around him.  
  
The light of the torches shimmered in his white hair, but his face was fair and young, with a look of peace beyond the reach of youth; it seemed as if he slept.  
  
The captains stood silent for a moment beside their king, and Imrahil said, "Where is the Steward? And where is Mithrandir also?"  
  
One of the guards answered, "The Steward of Gondor is in the Houses of Healing."  
  
Eomer said, "Where is the Lady Eowyn, my sister; for surely she should be lying beside the king, and in no less honor? Where have they brought her?" But Imrahil said, "The Lady Eowyn was yet living when they brought her from the field. Did you not know?"  
  
Hope rose in Eomer as he turned to Cyrene, and seeing the light in her eyes, he knew that she felt it as well. They both bowed in respect before the King's remains, and given a glimpse of hope, they turned and went swiftly from the hall. The Prince of Dol Amroth followed them.  
  
Outside the Houses of Healing they met Gandalf and with him someone cloaked in gray. They greeted the wizard and asked him, "We seek the Steward, and men say that he is in this House. Has any hurt befallen him? And the Lady Eowyn, where is she?"  
  
Gandalf answered, "She lies in this house and is not dead, but is near death. The Lord Farmer was wounded by an evil dart, as you have heard, and he is now the Steward, for Denethor has departed, and his house is in ashes."  
  
Imrahil said, "So victory has been bitterly bought, if both Gondor and Rohan are in one day bereft of their lords. Eomer rules the Rohirrim. Who shall rule the White City meanwhile? Shall we not send now for the Lord Aragorn?"  
  
"He has come," said the cloaked man stepping into the light of the lantern by the door so that they saw it was him, wrapped in the gray cloak of Loren over his chain mail, and bearing no other token than the green stone of Galadriel. "I have come because Gandalf begged me to do so," he said. "But for now I am but the Captain of the Dúnedain; and the Lord of Dol Amroth should rule the City until Faramir awakes. It is my counsel that Gandalf should rule us all in the days that follow and in our dealings with the Enemy."  
  
The high lords agreed upon that.  
  
Then Gandalf said, "Let us not stay at the door, for the time is fleeing. Let us enter, for it is only in the coming of Aragorn that any hope remains for the sick that lie in the House."  
  
Aragorn entered first and the others followed. As they went towards the rooms where the sick were tended, Gandalf told of the deeds of Eowyn and Merry.  
  
As soon as they gained admittance to the sickroom, Eomer and Cyrene ran to the side of Eowyn's bed. Aragorn went first to Faramir, and then to the Lady Eowyn, and last to Merry. When he had looked on the faces of the sick and seen their hurts he sighed.  
  
Eomer seeing that Aragorn was sorrowful and weary said, "First you must rest, surely, and at the least eat a little?"  
  
Aragorn shook his head. "For these three, and especially Faramir, time is running out. All speed is needed."  
  
He went away to speak to the woman in charge of the house for he needed healing herbs. Then he bade the other women to make water hot.  
  
Eowyn lay pale and cold, her eyes closed, her breathing shallow and almost nonexistent. Eomer walked to his sister and carefully brought one of her hands to his lips.  
  
"My sister, my brave, kindhearted, loving, beautiful sister. Do not leave me, I beg of you!" he whispered to her, while his heart broke at the sight before him. But there was still hope.  
  
Cyrene knelt by her friend's side and lovingly brushed a tendril of golden hair away from Eowyn's sweaty brow. Her eyes took in Eowyn's broken shield- arm, the battered and bruised body, and silent tears fell unbidden.  
  
"Forgive me Eowyn for not being at your side when you faced danger. I was your sister in arms and arrived too late to aid you. Forgive me, beloved sister, for all the pain I caused you and your loved ones, failing your trust and our vow," Cyrene whispered softly, as if only Eowyn was meant to hear it.  
  
Eomer heard her words nevertheless and his left hand closed over the Amazon's.  
  
"Cyrene, you made Eowyn, Rohan, and your own people proud by following Theoden's command and leading the amazons into battle. You saved many a life today on the battleground. It was Eowyn's choice to do what she did, and she did it with the courage and pride that was her own and the skills that you gave her. You could not have saved her, my beloved sister. Even I could not have done," he said.  
  
Cyrene nodded but did not say anything. She knew her responsibility for what had happened, for she had not fulfilled her promise to Eowyn.  
  
Aragorn came to the chamber and after revisiting her wounds he said, "There is a grievous hurt and a heavy blow. The arm that was broken has been tended with due skill, and it will mend in time, if she has the strength to live. It is the shield-arm that is maimed, but the chief evil comes through the sword-arm. In that there now seems no life." He tenderly touched the cool cheek, then turned to Eomer.  
  
"She faced a foe beyond the strength of her mind or body. And those who will take a weapon to such an enemy must be stronger than steel, if the very fight should not destroy them. It was an evil doom that set her in his path. She is a fair maiden, fairest lady of a house of queens. Though her fading began far back before this day, did it not, Eomer?"  
  
Eomer looked at Aragorn, his eyes narrowing on the ranger. Indeed, there had not been pleasant times for Eowyn in Edoras since Grima had arrived there, but Aragorn was the one who had hurt her. Unknowingly, maybe, but still he had touched and torn Eowyn's heart.  
  
"I marvel that you should ask me, lord," the captain of Rohan answered. "For though I hold you blameless in this matter, as in all else, I knew not that Eowyn, my sister, was touched by any frost until she first looked on you. Care and dread she had, and shared with me, in the days of Wormtongue and the king's bewitchment, and she tended the king in growing fear. But that did not bring her to despair!"  
  
Aragorn stood the look of Eomer's angry, desperate and hurt eyes upon him. The tension between both men became almost tangible in the air.  
  
"My friend," said Gandalf, "you had horses and deeds of arms and the free fields, but she, born in the body of a maid, had a spirit and courage at least the match of yours. Yet she was doomed to wait upon an old man, whom she loved as a father, and watch him falling into a mean dishonored state; and her part seemed to her more ignoble than that of the staff he leaned on."  
  
"She was trapped in the intrigues and spells of Wormtongue, chained to the care of the king and she did not want o burden you with it, Eomer. But it was not your fault," said Cyrene quietly.  
  
"My lord, if your sister's love for you and her will still bent to her duty had not restrained her lips, you might have heard even such things as these escape them. But who knows what she spoke to the darkness, alone, in the bitter watches of the night, when all her life seemed shrinking, and the walls of her bower closing in about her a hutch to trammel some wild thing in?" said Gandalf.  
  
"I know what happened in Edoras, Master Gandalf. And Eowyn was not alone. I beg of you not to torture Eomer with this anymore," interrupted Cyrene.  
  
Eomer was silent, and looked on his sister, as if pondering anew all the days of their past life together.  
  
Aragorn said, "I saw also what you saw, Eomer. Few other grieves among the ill chances of this world have more bitterness and shame for a man's heart than to behold the love of a lady so fair and brave that cannot be returned. Sorrow and pity have followed me ever since I left her desperate in Dunharrow and rode to the Paths of the Dead, and no fear upon that way was so present as the fear for what might befall her. And still, Eomer, I tell you that she loves you more truly than me, for you she loves and knows, but in me she loves only a shadow and a thought: a hope of glory and great deeds and lands far from the fields of Rohan. And a freedom she never had."  
  
Then Aragorn went silent and looked into Eowyn's beautiful face, and it was indeed white as a lily, cold as frost, and hard as marblestone. He bent and kissed her on the brow, and called her softly, saying, "Eowyn, Éomund's daughter, awake! For your enemy has passed away!"  
  
She did not stir, but now she began again to breathe deeply, so that her breast rose and fell beneath the white linen of the sheet. Once more Aragorn bruised two leaves of athelas and cast them into steaming water; and he washed her brow with it, and her right arm lying cold and stiff on the coverlet.  
  
"Awake, Eowyn, Lady of Rohan!" said Aragorn again, and he took her right hand in his and felt it warm with life returning. Then he laid her hand in Eomer's and stepped away.  
  
"Call her!" he commanded, and he left the chamber.  
  
"Eowyn, Eowyn!" cried Eomer, tears falling down his rugged cheeks.  
  
She opened her eyes and said, "Eomer! What joy is this? For they said that you were slain. Nay, but that was only the dark voices in my dream. How long have I been dreaming?"  
  
And turning to the other side she saw Cyrene, also crying, but the sweetest smile was curving her lips at the sight of Eowyn awake. "Cyrene, you came too, I knew you'd keep your promise."  
  
A tight knot in Cyrene's throat threatened to choke her. Guilt washed over her. "My sister, only the hounds from Hades would keep me away from honoring our vow."  
  
"I am strangely weary," Eowyn said. "I must rest a little. But tell me, what of the Lord of the Mark? Do not tell me that that was a dream for I know that it was not. He is dead as he foresaw." Eowyn continued, sorrow shadowing her features.  
  
"He is dead," said Eomer, "but he bade me say farewell to Eowyn dearer than a daughter. He lies now in great honor in the Citadel of Gondor."  
  
"That is painful," Eowyn said. " And still is more than I dared to hope in the dark days, when it seemed that the House of Eorl was sunk in honor less than any shepherd's cot. And what of the king's squire, the hobbit, Master Merry? Eomer, you shall make him a knight of the Riddermark, for he is brave and aided in the killing of beast and rider!"  
  
"He lies nearby in this House, and I will go to him," said Gandalf, speaking up from the back of the room. "Eomer shall stay here for a while. But do not speak yet of war or hardship, until you are well again. Great gladness it is to see you wake again to health and hope, so brave a lady!"  
  
"To health?" said Eowyn. "It may be so. At least while there is an empty saddle of some fallen Rider that I can fill, and there are deeds to do. But to hope? I do not know. My heart is empty. I do not know how to hope anymore."  
  
Cyrene lovingly caressed her friend's cheek. "Hope will come to you, my sister, for you are blessed with many who love you dearly. Fear not, Eowyn, for your bravery and kindness will be rewarded."  
  
Eomer smiled to his sister and the Amazon. "She is right, Eowyn. Now rest, my sister. For you are alive and that brings joy to our hearts."  
  
Eowyn smiled at both and settled back into sleep. Cyrene carefully arranged the coverlet around her friend. Once Eowyn was fast asleep, Eomer stood up. He did not want to leave but he felt weary and knew the fight was still not over. One look at Cyrene told him she was bone tired and sad as well. She needed some rest before the next battle.  
  
"Cyrene, we have to rest before the next battle. You should return to the camp," he said.  
  
"I failed her, Eomer. She might need me this night, and I will be here for her," Cyrene replied stubbornly.  
  
Eomer walked around the bed to Cyrene and knelt beside her. "You have never failed any of us, Cyrene, and you have still a duty towards Rohan, the amazons, and me. I believe we will be engaging in battle soon. Again. I need you. I beg you to return to the camp and rest, for so will I."  
  
Cyrene looked up into his kind eyes, wishing she could believe him. But she would never forget not having been there for Eowyn when her sister had needed her help.  
  
"I will then leave with you, Eomer, and return to her side in the morrow, until you command our departure," she said, standing up from the floor. She staggered lightly and Eomer caught her, holding her by her waist, unknowingly pressing her wound. Cyrene winced and turned from his grip.  
  
Eomer looked at her suspiciously. "Are you hurt, my sister?"  
  
The Amazon gave him a tired smile. "No, my liege. I will now leave. Rest this night. Eomer, for it may be our last under sheltered roofs."  
  
He smiled at her and both left for the camp. They indeed had a few hours yet before sunrise. 


	27. Chapter Twenty Seven: THE PRICE OF LOVE

Chapter XXVII: The price of war  
  
Title: In the midst of adversity  
  
Author: Claudia (Maram68)  
  
Rating: R  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own any of J.R.R. Tolkien's characters or settings, even if I love them as if they were my own. The idea and Cyrene are mine, only mine.  
  
Author's note: Again, I give all the credit to Viv, sorceress extraordinaire. She makes ramblings turn to readable text.  
  
To the Fic Chicks for their love and support.  
  
To all who review, those who have reviewed in this month. (Wow, I am in awe!!!), and specially those well and less known friends who are following the story. This fiction is for you, thanks for the feedback and support! You keep the muse alive, keep on going, you make this happen!  
  
Love,  
  
Claudia  
  
  
  
Chapter XXVII: The price of Love  
  
Cyrene and Eomer mounted up and left the city, riding calmly towards the camps set on the Pelennor Fields. Eomer stole a glance at Cyrene. A few days had passed since he had seen her last, but she was different. He had seen her in battle, fighting by his side with the Rohirrim, as a caring and strong leader of men. He had seen her playful and loving side, directed toward Eowyn and himself.  
  
A small smile crept over his lips as he remembered her trying to adjust to being "just a female" when she arrived in Rohan. It had taken some effort from him and Eowyn to help her to accept the ways of the Rohirrim. But nevertheless, Cyrene had been true to herself and given them the finest friendship and loyalty imaginable, making their lives richer. He missed her amber eyes sparkling with mischief and laughter. For now, he saw only shadows in her eyes and lines of worry in her face. Before, she had been a girl, an adult by age, but nevertheless a girl. This Cyrene that rode by his side was a woman. An unhappy woman lost in her own thoughts.  
  
Guilt settled in Cyrene's mind as she reviewed the past day. Eowyn had almost died and though she had survived she was still seriously hurt. Cyrene knew war was not a game. It could have cost her friend's life. And she would have borne the guilt for it upon her shoulders for the rest of her life.  
  
After the battle, she had reviewed the ranks of the amazons. Luckily few had fallen on the battleground. Cyrene made sure that those who were injured were tended.  
  
Still, the weight of the responsibility of the dead warriors under her command and the thought of Eowyn almost lost to a creature of Sauron were weighing hard on her. For the first time in her life, this was a burden she did not want to bear. The warrior wanted no more war.  
  
'Life away from home has weakened your spirit,' she told herself. It was just too much death, too much pain, and her soul was torn between her duty and her selfish craving for Legolas. He was her escape from the obligations appointed to her. The Elf made her feel as if she was alone with him on earth and nothing else mattered as long as they were together.  
  
And that thought brought another wave of guilt rushing over her. She was not allowed the luxury of love. Not yet, if ever.  
  
Eomer respected her silence until they reached the small hill that oversaw the camping sites of the Army of the West.  
  
"I have missed you, my friend. Are you well?" asked Eomer.  
  
Cyrene gave him a slight smile. "Yes, Eomer. Now that I know that Eowyn will recover, I am well. And I have missed you too."  
  
Eomer wondered if he should dare to ask her about the elf. He had seen them arrive together and after that morning in Helm's Deep he had known then that her feelings for Legolas were strong. Strong enough to make her yield at last to a male.  
  
Though he hesitated to ask her, he had to know.  
  
"Are you happy with Legolas, Cyrene?"  
  
Cyrene did not answer right away. But as she did, he saw the love shining in her eyes. "He is the most amazing male I ever met."  
  
Eomer felt his heart break, but he had to recognize he had known it since he had seen her in the elf's embrace. Legolas had won her heart, and, he would bet his crown, her body as well. He forced himself to be the friend she deserved.  
  
"If you are happy, Cyrene, I am happy for you as well." He paused as new images entered his head. "Are you going to bind yourself to him?"  
  
Cyrene looked into Eomer's face. She was not certain if she could speak freely. But she needed to talk and relieve her mind. Eomer was her friend.  
  
"We have not discussed the future, Eomer. I do not know. But I will not return to the Amazons when the war is over."  
  
The King rode another couple of feet before saying: "He cannot bind himself to a mortal, Cyrene"  
  
Cyrene reined her horse to a stop. "Why do you say this, Eomer?"  
  
He hesitated, but he had to tell her. She obviously did not know.  
  
"He is an elf, immortal, only to be killed in battle. His natural life would last for thousands of years in eternal youth and beauty. If he bound himself to a mortal, he would give up his immortality."  
  
Cyrene looked at Eomer with surprise and dawning realization. Legolas was an elf, a beautiful magical being born to live through the ages of the world. She was nothing more than a mortal woman. He should not have to sacrifice his immortality. Not for her.  
  
Eomer regretted having told her the moment he saw the light in her amber eyes die. It was as a heavy weight had fallen upon her. He stretched his hand to touch her and Cyrene let him move his mount nearer to hers.  
  
"Cyrene, I did not intend to hurt you." He said reaching across the narrow space between their horses to put an arm around her.  
  
She let him hold her while the coldness of her crushed illusions seeped into her conscience. Imbecile of an inexperienced woman, she told herself. She should have known.  
  
***  
  
Legolas paced inside Cyrene's tent, keenly aware of the amused looks of Gimli and Aella.  
  
"Unless you settle down, Master elf, you will have dug a moat by yourself right here, " said the dwarf. He was in fine spirits, obviously the result of recent nights spent with Aella, the little Amazon.  
  
Legolas looked at his friend and sighed. What in the name of Elbereth was amiss? He could feel it. Though he had never been this impatient. He felt restless and he needed to see Cyrene to ease his worries. He turned to see Gimli caressing Aella's hand while the Amazon leaned her head on the dwarf's shoulder. They were leading a discrete relationship, about which neither of them ever spoke. But it was clear to Legolas, and felt bittersweet.  
  
The elf turned again and stepped out of the tent. He searched the landscape for any sign of Cyrene, and then he saw them. On a near hill. He recognized the armor and the horses of both Cyrene and Eomer of Rohan. The two were bound in a close embrace.  
  
The sight of his Cyrene in the Rohirrim's arms hit Legolas like a blow. Something like a rush of hot blood flooded his senses. Jealousy? Legolas barely contained the urge to run to the pair and tear Cyrene away from Eomer's arms. Elves did not feel jealousy. He was shocked by the force of it.  
  
Cyrene was his mate, and he was certain of her love and loyalty. But she had known Eomer before him and it was obvious that the horse lord was in love with her. And now he was King of her adoptive homeland.  
  
Legolas turned around and walked back to the tent. He needed to regain some of his control.  
  
**  
  
The Amazon Princess and the King of Rohan reached the camp and noticed that the Amazons were not camping by the Rohirrim but were instead situated in the camp of Aragorn and the Dúnedain.  
  
The Amazon turned to Eomer. She had steeled herself and did not show any more of the storm raging inside of her.  
  
"You know we are at your command, my brother. I will see you on the morrow."  
  
Eomer smiled sadly. "I am sorry to have made you hurt, my sister. I will see you on the morrow."  
  
Cyrene turned towards the camp of Aragorn, riding slowly once Eomer had left. She felt defeated, broken. She had trusted her heart to Legolas and lost in the bargain. Not because of him, but because of the impossibility of their relationship. He would give immortality up for her, she was sure of it. But Cyrene would not allow it. Never.  
  
It was in that exact instant that she recognized that she loved him. More than life itself, because she did not bear to think of life after he was gone from her side. Legolas was life to her, but she would not be the cause of his death.  
  
Stern resolution laced with unbearable pain took her. Cyrene had to send Legolas away from her. No matter the cost.  
  
The princess left her horse by the other mounts and reached her tent walking slowly, beyond weary and discouraged, exhausted, and sad.  
  
When she reached the camp, she saw Aella waiting for her by her tent. Aella's loyal friendship would make everything easier to overcome. The petite Amazon smiled at the sight of Cyrene.  
  
"Are you going to rest now? We still have a few hours before sunrise."  
  
Cyrene did not even attempt to smile back or answer the friendly question. "How are the wounded faring, Aella? And why are we camping by Aragorn's troops? We owe our allegiance to the Mark of Rohan and belong to King Eomer's Army now."  
  
"The wounded are well, Mistress. And since our warriors are already nervous having to share space with so many males, they prefer to stay by the warriors they already know, the Dúnedain."  
  
"I was not berating you the camping circumstances, Aella. I was only surprised. I will try to rest a while. You do that as well. There are still long and hard days before us," said Cyrene, rubbing her neck. "Are you sharing the tent with me tonight?"  
  
Aella's smile spoke for itself. "I have guarded your tent to see if you had any commands for me this night. I am being expected elsewhere."  
  
Cyrene felt even more miserable, though she was happy that her friend had found a mate.  
  
"Give Gimli my best wishes that he may fare well in the next battles. And send him my fondest greetings. I will lay down now and see you at sunrise," said Cyrene, wearily walking into her tent.  
  
Her feet felt like lead, and though she had not been newly injured, there was an obtuse pain radiating from her side wound. Aella was gone, so she would have to take care of it on her own. She removed her swords and the quiver from her back and set them next to her pallet.  
  
Cyrene knelt down, wincing at the rub of her cuirass against the wound and managing to turn around on the ground and start unbuckling her armor. Her internal alarm went off, dulled by weariness, pain, and the worry that had taken over her mind since the battle.  
  
But the moment his gentle hands settled over hers unbuckling the armor, she was struck with the force of his presence.  
  
"You should be resting, Legolas. I am very happy that you survived the battle without harm," Cyrene managed to say; surrendering to his hands, as they efficiently helped her with the armor. She did not even try to conjure the will to resist. She would comply one last time.  
  
"You are hurting and exhausted. I was worried. Would you let me see how the wound is faring?" Legolas asked, alarmed by her grimace as he unintentionally brushed the thick bandage over her side.  
  
"I am not able to stop you, Legolas. Do whatever you wish," she said.  
  
The dull tone of her voice worried him. Something was very, very wrong.  
  
He tried to keep a light tone as he said, "Amaelamin, sadly I cannot do whatever I wish with you. But I trust I will, once we have bested this ordeal before us."  
  
Cyrene was hurting, and it was not only her body. He sensed shadows in her mind and soul.  
  
Cyrene managed to stand up again, and she turned to face him. She steeled herself and said, "Legolas, please . do not touch me anymore. I can't bear it." She moved away from him and continued, "You are the most gentle and wonderful being I ever met and I cannot believe you have chosen me to share your bed and your time. But I do not deserve you."  
  
He did not move but listened to the unwelcome words coming from Cyrene. He wanted to hear all she had to say.  
  
"Since you came into my life, you made all I have learned and believed in seem unimportant. I am not an Amazon; I don't know where I belong to any more. I have many duties to fulfill and you make me weak, make me lose my purpose."  
  
Legolas knew that she was stubborn and could still not see that they were bound to each other. He had to make her understand.  
  
"Cyrene, we belong together. We love each other, and love makes us stronger not weaker. You must understand this."  
  
She forced herself not to give in to the impulse to forget her resolution and indulge in loving him and be loved. She had to drive him away.  
  
"We don't belong together. You are an elf; I am an Amazon. I belong to my people and to Rohan. I cannot love you." The lie hurt her even more as she saw his face fill with pain and rage. He walked up to her and gripped her shoulders hard.  
  
Legolas knew he must be hurting her, but he let the unbridled force of his jealousy and despair take control of him. He saw her in Eomer's embrace. And he couldn't bear it. "No, Cyrene. You don't belong to Eomer. You belong to me. And you love me. I know this and you are lying. Why?"  
  
She forced her pride and fury to surface as she desperately sought for a way to drive him away. "How dare you? I don't belong to any male. And I don't love you. Not now, not ever."  
  
The elf's patience snapped, and he was driven by a rage he had never felt before. His voice was cold and dangerous as he hissed, "You lie. And I will prove this to you."  
  
His mouth fell on hers with force and he claimed her lips while he molded her body to his.  
  
For a fleeting moment she heard a voice in her head tell her that she should fight and break the hard embrace. But she wanted to be joined with him, even if it was for a last time.  
  
Her arms locked around his neck, as he continued his onslaught on her body. But it was a gentle siege. Even in his fury, Legolas treated her with care.  
  
She kissed him back, holding on fiercely, not wanting to let a single inch of space between them. She cursed the clothes that kept her from feeling his skin against hers.  
  
His hands roamed over her body, shedding the remaining garments. He loved her, but now he had to prove that they belonged to each other, and that she loved him. And he was desperate.  
  
Cyrene was pulling his clothing from him as well. She wanted to feel him, be joined with the only love of her life, for one last time. Before they parted for good.  
  
Legolas brought her to the makeshift bed, not breaking contact with her skin for a second. Cyrene's body responded to him like a finely tuned instrument in the hands of its player. And she wanted him; her body already trembled with need as he set her on the pallet.  
  
He kissed her again, while she pulled him desperately to her. "Careful, you are hurt, beloved." He managed to whisper.  
  
"I do not care if I hurt, Legolas ... I need you," Cyrene cried out, her fingers tangling in his hair as she pulled him back for a kiss.  
  
Their tongues battled for possession as their hands wandered over each other's skin, seeking and finding the places that would bring them closer to glorious release. Cyrene rolled her hips in a desperate attempt to join her body with Legolas, but he held himself away briefly, caressing her still for a long moment before he plunged deep inside of her, claiming her body as his own.  
  
Cyrene cried out as Legolas drove her to her completion. She touched the stars, and somewhere in the depth of her mind she swore that no person would ever touch her this way again. Only Legolas. And then she let herself fall into the bliss of their joining and the sweet proximity of him.  
  
Legolas reached his peak and felt his life seed flow into her body. He held her close, hoping he would never have to let go. Very softly he whispered into her ear.  
  
"I love you and you love me, amaelamin. You are mine, forever."  
  
**  
  
It was a pleasant awakening, Cyrene thought, feeling Legolas's heartbeat and chest under her cheek. She reveled in the sensations while reality pulled her back into its folds. They were in Gondor, and they were at war. And she had to part from him. For good. For a moment she wished she had died on the field, instead of having to hurt him and drive him away. She reminded herself sternly that this parting would save his life, in the end.  
  
Legolas felt her stir against his chest. He was stretched beside her, holding her close, indulging into the feeling of union and belonging that they could only achieve together, he and the incredible woman his heart had chosen.  
  
Cyrene forced herself to sit slowly up in the makeshift bed while she gathered her courage and wits to do what had to be done.  
  
Legolas could not repress a smile at the sight of Cyrene, sleepy still, her black hair falling wildly around her shoulders. He wished he could make the lines of worry and the dark shadows under her eyes go away.  
  
"Is it sunrise yet, Legolas?" she asked.  
  
"Nay, amaelamin. Not yet. But soon," he replied.  
  
"Then you should leave now. Do not seek me, I beg you. Leave me be," she said firmly. She stood up and began dressing.  
  
"Cyrene, you felt it too. We belong together. We made love," he said looking desperately into her face to see the love he knew she felt for him shining in her eyes. But he only saw stubbornness and regret. And then Legolas knew he had lost her.  
  
Cyrene made an effort to give him, the one she would have died for, the last blow. To keep him alive.  
  
"It was not love, Legolas. We mated. And we are comrades in arms, no more no less. Please leave," she said, and her heart broke once again as she saw the defeat in his beautiful face. She was the cause of his pain, but she would not be the cause of his death.  
  
Legolas dressed and turned to leave the tent. He walked by her and his hand gently brushed her cheek.  
  
"I shall bother you no more, Lady Cyrene. May the Gods protect you."  
  
"May the Goddess be with you, Master Legolas," she whispered, as he walked out.  
  
And then, alone, the Amazon Princess fell on her knees as if struck by lightning. Tears flooded her face and soundless cries escaped her lips. She broke beneath the force of the grief she felt. She wished the Goddess's mercy and longed to die. For without Legolas's love there was no life left for her.  
  
***  
  
Author's Note on Chapter 27:  
  
Yes, my beloved readers you keep this going (because without you Cyrene would have stayed in my head forever and ever!). I do know that only the line of Elros had the choice of mortality or immortality and we know that Legolas would not loose his immortality if he stayed with Cyrene. But Eomer doesn't know all details on elven characteristics. Cyrene doesn't know about them at all. And hey, if you were her, plagued by guilt-feelings and overwhelmed by what is happening to her and around her .. and having a gorgeous loving elf that would do anything for you . Okay, I think you get the idea. I promise we will set Cyrene straight about the real possibilities with Legolas soon. We are not far from the end (couple of chapters), and I will definitely miss this story and your feedback.  
  
Please bear with me and indulge my mistakes,  
  
Love  
  
Claudia 


	28. Chapter Twenty Eight: THE LAST HOPE

Disclaimer: They belong to Prof. JRR Tolkien. Except Cyrene and other side characters.  
  
A/N: This chapter is not that great but it took time and effort. Thank you for all the old and new readers who make this happen and keep Cyrene's tale alive. The wonderful feedback I receive is the best muse possible. As always many great thanks to Viv, my Beta-Angel and to my very own bunch of Amazons, strong, noble and loyal. This insignificant mortal embraces you with all her might, and thanks the Goddess for having you. Claudia  
  
p p  
  
Chapter XXVIII: The Last Hope  
  
Eomer sat on his horse on the same hill where he had lingered the night before with Cyrene. Now he watched the parting of the Rohirrim from Minas Tirith.  
  
This morning's meeting between the leaders of the Army of the West and Gandalf had been dramatic and the decisions made weighed heavy on Eomer's soul.  
  
Their review of the limited options left to them for stopping the advance of Sauron over Middle Earth had been painful but logical and level-headed: the leaders of the free folk recognized they had no alternatives but to gamble all of their last fighting power to distract the Dark Lord and give the Ringbearer an opportunity to destroy the One Ring.  
  
Aragorn had released all Kings, leaders and princes of their allegiance, for this was a suicidal mission. They were going to attack the Dark Gates of Morannon.  
  
Eomer had been the first of the leaders to put his and his troops lives in the hands of Aragorn; Imrahil and the other leaders had been quick to follow.  
  
But now, as he oversaw his decimated army move into formation under the banner of the white horse, Eomer prayed to all the gods that he was not leading these men into their ultimate doom.  
  
He saw the small squadron of amazons follow the Rohirrim, carrying their own banner of the ivy leaf and the crescent moon. And his eyes searched the ranks of the warrior women after Cyrene. He couldn't find her.  
  
The loud sound of hooves behind him explained Cyrene's absence from the ranks, for there she was, riding up to where he waited.  
  
Again, Eomer admired her royal appearance, clad in the armor and mantle of an Amazon princess. As his gaze fell upon her face, partly hidden by the helmet, Eomer saw that she was wearing a mask of calm demeanor, but her eyes could not hide her sorrow. Cyrene's laughing eyes were devoid of their warmth, their brightness. Her spirit was torn.  
  
He had not noticed this change at the morning meeting, when she had accompanied him as one of the captains of the Rohirrim. But then he had been overcome by the burden of his own responsibility at having to decide the fate of his army, and he had only acknowledged her presence by his side, reveling at the sensation of strength and confidence she gave him.  
  
Seeing her now, Eomer felt he had failed her as a friend. When she arrived at his side, he laid his hand on her forearm affectionately.  
  
"Are you well, my sister?" he asked her softly, so as to not be overheard by his escort.  
  
Cyrene nodded calmly, not even the hint of a smile on her face.  
  
"I am well, Milord. I have explained to my warriors the purpose of the next battle and its importance. All of them are prepared to fight to the last breath, my King, as am I."  
  
He sighed, and tried to reach for her cheek. She moved away.  
  
"I am here to support you, Eomer. I will fight by your side and follow you into the depths of Hades itself. But I beg you not to burden my soul with any more of the emotions that trouble the minds of men. We Amazons will fulfill our duty towards Rohan and I am ready to die defending you, my friend, but we do not need any of the weaknesses that those of this world suffer, " she said softly.  
  
Her voice was controlled and almost cold. The king of the Rohirrim felt her pain tear at his heart: the woman riding next to him seemed to have changed over night and hardened beyond his reach.  
  
Eomer bowed his head to the Amazon. "As you wish, Mistress," and after this he spoke no more to her, both riding up to their troops.  
  
***  
  
Legolas and Gimli were riding with Aragorn, Gandalf, the Dúnedain and the sons of Elrond. They lead the main contingent while Imrahil rode with his troops and the men of Lebennin in their wake. The Rohirrim were riding at the end of the army, as they had left the dismounted and wounded warriors back in Minas Tirith to support the White City in the case of an attack. "Gimli has been waiting for Legolas since dawn, after he had parted from Aella himself, and the moment he saw his elf friend, he knew that something had gone awfully wrong between Legolas and Cyrene."] The sorrow and void he saw in his friend's blue eyes had been terrible enough that Gimli had not dared to ask.  
  
Life-loving Legolas was a shadow of himself, and Gimli now had to believe that elves could die of grief, as he saw the light of his friend's spirit slowly dimming.  
  
Gimli silently swore that he would stand steadfast by his elven friend's side throughout the next ordeal, and then, if they survived, he would do whatever was in his power to restore Legolas's joy of life. By the wealth of Erebor, he would not stand by and watch helplessly the elf fade away, not without a fight.  
  
***  
  
The warriors rode silently towards Mordor, aware of their destination. To maintain the pretense of the motives of their attack, heralds and trumpeters were sent ahead, announcing, "The Lords of Gondor have returned, and all this land that is theirs they hereby reclaim."  
  
All was silent at the Dark Gate. No sign of any enemy could be seen, no cry or call was heard, no suspicious shadows were spotted. Yet ever as they went forward they felt the watchfulness of the land increase. Tree and stone, blade and leaf were listening. Darkness was dissolving in front of them, as they advanced, the landscape opening before her eyes.  
  
It was dark and lifeless, and though they marched in apparent peace, the foreboding of evil weighed heavy on the hearts and minds of the soldiers of the West. Even though they could not see the Nazgul flying high above them, except Legolas, the presence of the Ringwraiths could be felt, as a deepening of shadow, while the specters followed every move of the Army.  
  
Dread was slowly seeping into each of the fighters as they approached the lands they only knew from tales of horror and nightmares.  
  
While each leader wandered the ranks of his people to keep their spirits up, Legolas turned his sight upon the part of the army where he could see the banner of the Amazons. Would Cyrene feel the same dread she had felt in the Paths of the Dead? Who would she turn to? Eomer?  
  
He shook the thoughts out of his mind. She had sent him away, but she would never know that once his heart had been given, he could not take it back. Again he prayed to the Valar to keep her safe from harm. And to give him a swift death on the battlefield, for he did not want to linger until he faded away. The only purpose he saw now in front of him was his oath to Aragorn, and once it was fulfilled, there was nothing left for him.  
  
Cyrene gathered her Amazons for a short council. She walked to each of them and told them about her experience on the Paths of the Dead. She did not explain that Legolas had saved her from insanity, but she told them to stay close to their comrades and support each other when they felt dread taking over their hearts. Only together they would overcome the evil magic of the Dark Lord.  
  
After the talk to her warriors, she rode up to the top of the squadron. Aella rode close to her.  
  
"He helped you then, did he not, Cyrene?" Aella asked her friend.  
  
"Legolas saved my life and my honor more than once, Aella. And I will be forever indebted to him. He owns my heart. For as long as I live, and further beyond," said Cyrene, remembering his gentle strength and loving tenderness.  
  
"Then why did you part from him, Cyrene? I do not understand. You showed me that there were qualities and feelings in males that we as Amazons never knew about. I learned about love and care and belonging with a most unlikely male. But now, I would give my life for him, as I would for you. I don't want to think about not having him near. And still I know we might not survive the next battle.  
  
"Every minute I spend with him is precious to me, Cyrene. He makes me feel complete. And may the Goddess give more time to share with my male, or at least I'll know I have know his presence in my life before my soul goes to Hades. Why are you denying this to yourself?"  
  
Cyrene's face was strangely calm as she turned to her friend.  
  
"Because I realized I love him more than life itself. And if he bound himself to me, he would lose his immortality. Who am I to deny him thousands of years of life to enjoy and behold the wonders of the world? My entire life is but a fleeting moment in his existence. I cannot and will not take that from him. So I chose to set him free, the only way I could. I sent him away, never to come back."  
  
Aella saw the shadow that fell over her friend's face. She said softly, "But it is killing you, Cyrene. I can see it."  
  
A sad smile spread over Cyrene's lips.  
  
"I will not die of grief. But I pray to the Goddess to take my life in battle as a sacrifice to give us victory. And if she does, Aella, you will lead them on. Swear it to me, now."  
  
The small Amazon felt the tears gathering in her eyes but she swallowed hard and laid her hand on her sword, "I will lead them on, Mistress, if you fall in battle. But may the Goddess keep us alive until this is over, to bring further fame and glory to the Amazons."  
  
Cyrene nodded. "You will, Aella. You will."  
  
And after saying this, Cyrene spurred her mount and cantered toward Eomer. Aella stayed behind, hiding her tears as best she could. She would fight and die at her friend's side if need be.  
  
***  
  
The Army of the West reached the great rampart of Cirith Gorgor, with the Black Gate in the midst, and the two Towers of the Teeth tall and dark on either side of it.  
  
The two immense iron doors of the Black Gate were fast closed. The battlements seemed to be empty, and nothing could be seen. Still, though all was silent, it was also watchful.  
  
The Captains of the West gathered their courage. They had arrived to the last end of their gamble and now stood forlorn and small in the gray light of the ominous early day, facing the towers and walls which their army could not assault with hope.  
  
They also knew that all the hills and rocks about the Morannon were filled with hidden foes. They saw all the Nazgûl gathered, hovering above the Towers of the Teeth like vultures, and they knew that they were watched. But still the main enemy gave no sign. No choice was left them but to play their part to its end. Aragorn set the sparse host in the best tactical array as he could, drawn up on two great hills facing the Gate and the Towers.  
  
When the troops were set, the Captains rode forth towards the Black Gate with a great guard of horsemen and the banner and heralds and trumpeters. There was Gandalf as chief herald, and Aragorn with the sons of Elrond, and Éomer of Rohan with Cyrene at his side, and Imrahil, and Legolas and Gimli and Pippin, so that all the Free Folk of Middle Earth and enemies of Mordor should have a witness.  
  
They came close to the high walls, within cry of the walls, and unfurled the banner. They blew upon their trumpets and the heralds cried, "Come forth! Let the Lord of the Black Land come forth! Justice shall be done, for wrongfully has he made war upon Gondor and wrested its lands. Therefore the King of Gondor demands that he stand up for his deeds and depart then for ever. Come forth"  
  
As the Captains were about to turn away, the silence was broken suddenly by the rolling of great drums like thunder in the mountains, and then a loud howling of horns that shook the stones and stunned the men's ears. The middle door of the Black Gate was thrown open, and out of it came an embassy from the Dark Tower.  
  
Its leader was a rider clothed all in black, though this was not a Ringwraith but a living man. He was the Lieutenant of the Tower of Barad- ur, and with him came only a small company of black-harnessed soldiery, and a single banner, black but bearing in red the Evil Eye. Now halting a few paces before the Captains of the West he looked them up and down and laughed.  
  
"Though none of you are fit to even pronounce my master's name, he conceded that I might show you these tokens." He signed to one of his guards, and he came forward bearing a bundle swathed in black cloths.  
  
He drew from the bundle the short sword that Sam had carried, and next a gray cloak with an elven-brooch, and finally the coat of mithril-mail that Frodo had worn wrapped in his tattered garments.  
  
The captains who had not known the Ringbearer understood the tragedy unfolding because they saw Aragorn, Gandalf, Legolas, and Gimli's faces turn ashen. Pippin sprang forward with a cry of grief. Cyrene's heart was hurting again as she saw her beloved's countenance crumple in absolute despair.  
  
All was lost then, and blackness came before their eyes. It seemed to them in a moment of silence that the world stood still, but their hearts were dead and their last hope gone.  
  
"We found your spies within our fortress. What use you find in this midget I cannot guess. It would be vain for you to now deny that they belong to your party."  
  
"I will not deny them," said Gandalf. "I know them all and all their history, and despite your scorn, foul Mouth of Sauron, you cannot say as much. But why do you bring them here?"  
  
"Sauron does not love spies, and what their fate shall be depends now on your choice." No one answered him, but he saw their faces grey with fear and the horror in their eyes and he laughed again, enjoying their suffering.  
  
"They shall endure the slow torment of years, as long and slow as our arts in the Great Tower can contrive, and never be released, unless they are so changed and broken that they may come to you, and you shall see what you have done. This will be unless you accept my Lord's terms."  
  
"Name the terms," said Gandalf steadily, but those nearby saw the anguish in his face, and now he seemed an old and wizened man, crushed, defeated at last. The leaders of the Army of the West did not doubt now that he would accept. All was lost. "These are the terms," said the Messenger, and he grinned triumphantly as he eyed them one by one. "The rabble of Gondor and its deluded allies shall withdraw at once beyond the Anduin, first taking oaths never again to assail Sauron the Great in arms, open or secret. All lands east of Anduin shall be Sauron's forever. West of the Anduin as far as the Misty Mountains and the Gap of Rohan shall be tributary to Mordor, and men there shall bear no weapons, but shall have leave to govern their own affairs."  
  
Gandalf said, "This is much to demand for the delivery of our companions: that your Master should receive in exchange what he must else fight a enormous war to gain! Or has the field of Gondor destroyed his hope in war, so that he falls to bargaining? And if indeed we rated this prisoner so high, what warranty have we that Sauron the Deceiver, will keep his part? Where is this prisoner? Let him be brought forth and given to us, and then we will consider these demands."  
  
The Mouth of Sauron laughed foully. "Do not bandy words in your insolence with my Master!" he cried. "Warranties you demand; Sauron gives none. If you appeal to his clemency you must first do his bidding. These are his terms. Take them or leave them!"  
  
"These we will take!" said Gandalf suddenly. He cast aside his gray cloak and a white blinding light shone forth like a sword in that black place. Before his upraised hand the dark Messenger retreated, and Gandalf seized and took from him the tokens: coat, cloak, and sword.  
  
"These we will take in memory of our friend," he cried. "But as for your Master's terms, we reject them utterly. Get you gone, for your embassy is over and death is near to you. We did not come here to waste words in treating with Sauron or any of his slaves. Be gone!"  
  
The Messenger of Mordor laughed no more. His face was twisted with amazement and anger to the likeness of some wild beast. He looked at the fell faces of the Captains and their deadly eyes, and fear overcame his wrath. He gave a great cry and turned, spurring his steed, and with his company galloped madly back to Cirith Gorgor. But as they went his soldiers blew their horns in signal long arranged, and even before they came to the gate Sauron sprang his trap.  
  
***  
  
During the exchange with the group of Sauron's envoys Cyrene kept her stance firm and serene at Eomer's right. But as the belongings of the Ringbearer and his friend were brought forward, she could not avoid looking over at Legolas. She saw the tightening of his jaw and the flash of pain crossing his beautiful face. And she felt the ache as if it were her own.  
  
It wasn't only the recognition that all their hopes had been crushed. If the Ringbearer had been taken, they were facing a battle that would lead to their utter destruction and the loss of Middle Earth with no chance whatsoever of standing up to the hordes of Mordor. The Army of the west was going into its certain death.  
  
But the sorrow she felt was more personal. It was for Legolas. He had known the Ringbearer and his companion, and strangely, she felt his searing pain as if it were her own. She loved him so much that again, she made her prayer to the Goddess. To not let her survive if he fell. She closed her eyes briefly at her prayer and as she opened them she found his blue eyes locked on hers, though her face was half-covered by her helmet. A lonely tear fell on her cheek and they exchanged a silent goodbye as the entourage turned away from the Black Gates and rode on a dead run towards the troops.  
  
The Army of Sauron was on their heels and the fight was upon them.  
  
*** 


	29. Chapter Twenty Nine: MORANNON

A/N: To Viv, the greatest beta alive, thanks for making this happen. To my human muses, the Smutketeers, for bugging me forward.  
  
To all of you who follow the story and review, thanks as well, since you make THE MUSE happen.  
  
Chapter Twenty Nine: Morannon  
  
Drums rolled and fires lept up on the top of the battlements of the fortress of Cirith Gorgor. The great doors of the Black Gate swung back wide as a great host of warriors of the Dark Lord streamed out.  
  
The Captains of The West galloped back at a dead run, and from the host of Mordor went up a frightening yell.  
  
Aragorn had counted on a trap, and now he saw there was no chance they could resist the strike of the dark forces. Even in the face of doom, the decimated troops of the Army of the West were prepared to hold the hills facing the Black Door to the end.  
  
The soldiers did not know that the Ringbearer had been intercepted by the forces of Sauron and their ultimate purpose lost. As they saw their leaders ride back to their posts with hordes of orcs in pursuit they prepared to defend their ground.  
  
Dust rose, darkening the air, and an army of Easterlings that had waited for the signal in the shadows marched up against one flank, charging from beyond the further Tower. Down from the hills on either side of the Morannon, hordes of orcs attacked.  
  
The warriors of the West were trapped and soon surrounded by forces many times their match closing on them as to drown the fighters in a sea of enemies.  
  
Sauron had taken the offered bait in jaws of steel.  
  
Upon the first hill stood Aragorn with Gandalf, and high in the wind was raised the banner of the Tree and Stars. Upon the other hill stood the banners of Rohan and the Amazons, White Horse and Ivy Leaf upon a crescent moon.  
  
Circling each hill was a ring of warriors facing all ways, armed with spears and swords. The Amazon archers were lined up, defending the center of the second hill.  
  
In the front facing Mordor, where the first enemy assault would come, stood the sons of Elrond and the Dunedain, and on the right were the Prince Imrahil with his Swan Knights of Dol Amroth, and selected soldiers of Minas Tirith.  
  
Before Aragorn could give a single order, the first assault crashed into them. The orcs, hindered by the mires that lay before the hills, halted and shot their arrows into the defending ranks.  
  
Behind them came a great company of hill-trolls out of Gorgoroth. They were taller and broader than men, clad only in a close-fitting mesh of horny scales and wielding heavy hammers in their knotted hands. The sight of them alone let the blood in the men's veins freeze. Each of their huge hands was the size of an adult man itself. This beasts were the soldier's nightmares come to life. Reckless, they sprang into the pools of the stinking moat and waded across, bellowing as they charged against the men of Gondor. They broke the line of the Tower Guard of Minas Tirith and beat upon helm and head, and arm and shield, bending upon the fallen to bite their throats as the salty thick smell of blood surged in the air. ]  
  
There was a strong wind blowing, and upon it arrows whined, flying from both sides; the Amazon and Rohirrim archers were taking out as many foes as they could, their aim not missing a single shot.  
  
But they were few against the sea of attackers closing in. And in that moment, rising out of the gray haze tainting the sun, the Nazgul came with cold voices crying words of death; and then all hope for mankind was quenched.  
  
Aella was leading the archers as long as they still had arrows, and Cyrene's eyes searched for the figure of Legolas on the next hill. He was shooting at the Nazgul with the great bow of the Galadhrim, and if Cyrene could match his aim blindly, there was chance they might together take down some of the Wraiths.  
  
She took her helmet off and made her best effort to shoot in the same angle as Legolas. She evoked in her mind the exact alignment of his shooting posture to imitate it, and her trained eye recognized his aim by just watching him from afar. All her experience and skill would be set to trial. For their luck, the winged Nazgul were relatively big and slow. Both of their arrows flew true, piercing a flying creature. Her third shot was rewarded by a high whine, as a beast was struck and fell wounded on the field, throwing its rider off in the middle of the air.  
  
But the archers were by then out of arrows and Cyrene's feat only gave the Amazons the feeling that they weren't helpless. And that was enough.  
  
Reaching for their swords and axes at the same time, Cyrene and Aella looked at each other and back at the archers, male and female standing by them.  
  
"See you in Hades, my sister," said Cyrene.  
  
"Don't make me wait," answered Aella, and both laughed fiercely as they charged against the Easterlings breaking their ranks. "For Artemis and for glory! For Rohan and the King, charge my warriors!" yelled Cyrene, leading them into mayhem.  
  
Eomer heard Cyrene and turned in the saddle where he was, standing among the last eored of his riders, cutting through the attackers while defending his ground, to see the archers, armed with their swords charge into the enemy. His first impulse was to turn his horse and ride towards Cyrene. But he knew they both had more of a chance of surviving if each one held their own ground. And praying to the Gods that he would survive the day and see her again, Eomer turned with renewed energies, cutting down the vile orcs that kept running up the hill like a never ending stream of evil. If the Rohirrim went down that day, they were going down in glory.  
  
All about the hills the hosts of Mordor raged. Legolas stood almost oblivious to the madness surrounding him. He was hunting the Nazgul, one by one. But time was not on his side. He ventured a look around and saw the soldiers of the West fighting and falling bravely under the immense force of foes storming the hill were he stood.  
  
His concentration faltered as he heard her voice though the rage of the battle. And his heart skipped a beat, for he recognized that Cyrene was charging into certain death.  
  
Torn between the urge to run to her and protect her or die at her side, his sense of duty took over, and he focused again on the specters flying high above them.  
  
"Namarie, amaelamin" he whispered and felt grief almost stopping his heart, as he kept on aiming and shooting down the flying Nazgul. He hoped his bow would give her and the other warriors at least a small hope to survive the battle.  
  
The sun gleamed red, and under the wings of the low flying Nazgul the shadows of death fell dark upon the earth.  
  
Aragorn stood beneath his banner, silent and stern, lost in thoughts of things long past or far away. His eyes gleamed like stars that shine the brighter as the night grows deeper. To his right, on the hilltop, stood Gandalf, and he was white and cold and no shadow fell on him. The onslaught of Mordor broke like a wave on the besieged hills, voices roaring in pain, victory, and agony amidst the loud clashing of arms.  
  
Suddenly as if a sudden vision had come over him, Gandalf the White stirred and turned, looking back north where the skies were pale and clear. For an endless moment his eyes sought the skies and hope appeared on his face.  
  
Then he lifted up his hands and cried in a loud voice that rose above the raging battle beneath him, "The eagles are coming!"  
  
Many voices repeated in joyful disbelief, "The eagles are coming! The eagles are coming!" Those voices sounded uncertain, as if they did not fully understand the meaning of Gandalf's cry.  
  
Both, the Army of the West and of the hosts of Mordor looked up and wondered at this sign.  
  
There came Gwaihir the Windlord, and Landroval his brother, greatest of all the Eagles of the North. Behind them in long swift lines came all their vassals from the northern mountains, speeding on a gathering wind.  
  
They fell straight down upon the Nazgul, stooping suddenly out of the high air, and the rush of their wide wings as they passed over was like wind.  
  
The Nazgul turned and fled, vanishing into Mordor's shadows, hearing a sudden terrible call out of the Dark Tower; and at that moment all the hosts of Mordor trembled, doubt clutching their hearts. Their laughter faltered and their hands shook.  
  
The Power of the Master that drove them on and filled them with hate and fury was wavering, its will was removed from them, and now looking in the eyes of their enemies they saw a deadly light and were afraid.  
  
All the Captains of the West cried aloud, for their hearts were filled with a new hope in the midst of despair. Out from the beleaguered hills knights of Gondor, Riders of Rohan, Dunedain of the North, Amazons from across the sea, drove against their wavering foes, piercing the rows of enemies with the thrust of their spears and swords.  
  
But Gandalf lifted up his arms and called out once more in a clear voice, "Stand, Warriors of the West! Stand and wait! This is the hour of doom."  
  
Even as he spoke the earth shook beneath their feet.  
  
Above the Towers of the Black Gate, a vast soaring darkness rose to the sky, flickering with fire. The earth groaned and quaked. The Towers of the Teeth swayed, shook, and fell. The mighty rampart crumbled, the Black Gate fell onto itself in ruin, and from far away, growing, came a drumming rumble, a roar, a long echoing roll of destruction.  
  
"The realm of Sauron is ended!" cried Gandalf. "The Ringbearer has fulfilled his quest."  
  
And as the warriors looked south to the Land of Mordor, there rose a huge shape of shadow, impenetrable, lightning-crowned, filling all the sky. Gigantic it reared above the world, and stretched out towards them a huge threatening hand, terrible but impotent, for even as it loomed over them, a great wind took it, and it was blown away like a rain-cloud passing. A terrible silence fell upon the battlefield.  
  
The warriors saw their enemies were flying and the power of Mordor was gone.  
  
The creatures of Sauron, orc or troll or beast spell-enslaved, ran mindless, some slaying each other or casting themselves in pits or fleeing, wailing, back to hide in holes and dark places.  
  
The Men of Rhun and of Harad, Easterling and Southron, saw their defeat and the majesty and glory of the Captains of the West. And those that were deepest and longest in evil servitude, hating the West but still proud and bold, now gathered for a last stand of desperate battle. But the most part fled eastward while they could, and some cast their weapons down and pled for mercy.  
  
After all foes had fled or, in the case of the humans, sent unarmed away, the remaining warriors of the Army of the West gathered on the field.  
  
Upon the hill defended by Aragorn and his men, the survivors watched the marvelous eagle Gwaihir land and take Gandalf upon his back. Together, they flew off towards Mount Doom, to find the Ringbearer.  
  
Legolas's eyes searched the field, looking for Cyrene. He saw the banner of the Amazons set again next the banner of Rohan, upon the next hill. His keen sight sought her familiar figure among the warrior women but he could not distinguish her.  
  
Gimli stood by his side. "Can you see the Amazons? Are they well?" he asked, knowing that Legolas had a better chance of spotting them then he had. Gimli was anxious. Despite all joy that he felt at the defeat of the Dark Lord, he couldn't bear the thought of Aella or Cyrene fallen on the field.  
  
It was then that Legolas saw both Amazons walking wearily towards the hill. Aella was limping, supported by Cyrene. He could see, even from afar, that Cyrene's left hand was pressed against the side of her armor, over the wound he knew was not yet fully healed. But both were alive.  
  
"They seem to be well, battered but alive, Gimli. They are returning to join Eomer and the Rohirrim," Legolas said, and a sharp stab of disappointment and jealousy hit him. She would never return to him.  
  
Gimli's smile was bright as he patted his friend's shoulder. "As long as they and we breathe, Master Elf, there is still hope. Do not forget that."  
  
"No, Gimli. Cyrene does not wish to be bothered with my attentions any more. And I shall respect her wishes," Legolas said, shouldering his bow and sheathing his knives.  
  
The dwarf shook his head at the stubbornness of the elf and the woman. Now that they had succeeded in war they had to fight for love. The image of Aella before his mind's eye lit up his heart. It was as important as destroying Sauron and the One Ring. And he would also give his share of fair fight.  
  
***  
  
Cyrene looked worried at the dislocated bone in Aella's leg. The little Amazon had been lucky to be hit with the broadside of an axe, so instead of cutting her leg, the weapon had only dislodged her bone. Cyrene had slain the attacker and carried Aella away. Then she had quickly put the bone back into place, and if she had not been bleeding from her wound again, she would have carried Aella back to the hill. But she just could not.  
  
Now that it was over, weakness, weariness, and her own personal defeat took over her mind. They had won the war; the Amazons had earned fame and glory. But she had lost him, and the heart and love she never knew she had been able to feel. Eomer rode to Cyrene and Aella and dismounted by their side. "My sisters, you are both wounded! Please let me aid you," he said, and he swept Aella off the ground and up into his saddle. Cyrene halted him from picking her up as well.  
  
"Don't you dare, King of Rohan!" she said in a stern voice, but with a smile on her face. Eomer smiled back at her, though he saw that her thin smile didn't reach her eyes.  
  
"As you wish, mistress. The King of Rohan is your most humble servant," he said. He carefully looked over to her hand, which held the joint of her armor and the bloody tunic beneath. "You are bleeding, Cyrene. Let me help you."  
  
"Nothing a good bandage wouldn't fix, Eomer. Do not fret. I suppose we will camp here?" she asked. They had walked slowly together, guiding Eomer's mount with Aella on top towards the rest of what was left the Rohirrim forces.  
  
"No, Cyrene. Aragorn has decided that we should move on as soon as we have taken care of our dead and wounded. This place is still full of evil and we shall part as soon as possible."  
  
The Amazon sighed loudly. She had managed to look over at the hill of the men of Gondor and distinctly recognized Legolas and Gimli. Both were alive, and that gave joy to her heart.  
  
But it also reminded her of what she had done to send the elf away from her and her own pain at having to part from him. Cyrene did not feel courageous enough to face him again and resist him. So she looked for a way out. Even the coward's way.  
  
"Eomer, I'd like to return to Minas Tirith tonight. To see Eowyn and prepare the departure of the Amazons. I will leave my warriors in charge of Aella. Do you give me your leave?" she asked.  
  
"You do not have to lie to me, my sister. I understand." He spoke softly enough that Aella couldn't overhear them. "You have my leave, and Dúmetar will ride with you to The White City. I hope that you will not leave before we return to it, though."  
  
"I will await your arrival. , Eomer. I shall prepare the departure of my warriors and will lead them from Minas Tirith to the coast. They will be riding with you, so I will be looking forward to your arrival," explained Cyrene.  
  
"And then, what will you do, Cyrene? Will you go back to the island or will you stay in Middle Earth? You know you will be always welcome in Edoras," Eomer continued.  
  
"I know, Eomer, my brother, and Edoras will always be my home away from home. But I do not know where the Goddess will lead me yet," said the Amazon.  
  
They had reached the hill. Eomer picked Aella off the saddle and carried her to where his healer was attending the injured. A few hundred feet away, some uninjured Rohirrim were burying their dead. The Amazons on the other side of the hill had built a funeral pyre for their fallen.  
  
Cyrene left Aella to be tended by Eomer's healer and joined her surviving warriors honoring the brave who had made their way to Hades. After the ceremony she returned to see Aella.  
  
"I will leave for Minas Tirith now, Aella," she explained to her friend. A fellow Amazon arrived and bound a fresh bandage across Cyrene's wound.  
  
Aella waited until the Amazon was done and gone before saying, "So you are fleeing?"  
  
Cyrene turned to her best friend and said, "Yes. And I hope that Middle Earth is big enough to give Legolas and me the chance to begin a new life apart from another."  
  
Aella wanted to argue, even to hit her friend's stubborn head until Cyrene understood that Legolas and she belonged together. But at the look in Cyrene's eyes, Aella trimmed her impulse. There was pain, regret and determination, and Cyrene would have to overcome those on her own. Of course, that didn't mean that Aella wouldn't do her fair share to helping Cyrene find happiness, whether her friend wanted it or not.  
  
"I shall meet you in Minas Tirith then, Cyrene. May the Goddess be with you," said the redhead.  
  
Cyrene knelt where Aella lay and embraced her. "She is, my sister, since she sent you into my life. Take care. I will await you."  
  
Then the Amazon princess stood up and walked to where Dumetar was waiting for her with their mounts. They had a long ride ahead. Away from the Morannon and from Legolas.  
  
*** 


	30. Chapter Thirty: FROM SHIELDMAIDEN TO WOM...

Disclaimer: I do not own any of J.R.R. Tolkien's characters or settings, even if I love them as if they were my own. The idea and Cyrene are mine, only mine.  
  
Author's Note: Though I revere Prof. Tolkien's work, I was never very happy with the way he treated Éowyn of Rohan. So I took the liberty of portraying her in this story the way I saw she was more likely to act.  
  
As usual, love an thanks to my dear beta Viv, my "out-of-block-bouncers" and all the readers who read and review. All my deepest and heartfelt thanks!  
  
p  
  
Chapter Thirty: FROM SHIELDMAIDEN TO WOMAN  
  
p  
  
Back at Minas Tirith, fear and uncertainty filled the air, despite the sunny weather.  
  
Since the Army had left, the cruel reality or war and hopelessness had reached every corner of the White City.  
  
They people of Minas Tirith dreaded each morning for news of doom. Their lord Denethor was dead and burned, and the new king that had come to them in the night was gone again to a war against powers too dark and terrible for any might or valor to conquer. The uncertainty of their future lay heavy upon the population of a city that had survived flames but now had no gates and no warriors to defend it, should the Army West fail in their mission.  
  
And no news came.  
  
After two days of rest, Eowyn bade the women who tended her to bring her clothing, and she rose from her bed. She was restless and sad but determined to stand up to whatever would happen. She set her arm in a sling of linen and went to the Warden of the Houses of Healing. "I am in great unrest, and I cannot lay longer in sloth," she told him.  
  
"Lady," he answered, "you are not yet healed, and I was commanded to tend you with especial care. You should not have risen from your bed. I beg you to go back."  
  
"I am healed," she said. "Healed at least in body, save my left arm only, and that is at ease. But I will fall sick if I should lie down again. Are there no tidings of the Army ?"  
  
"There are no tidings," said the Warden. He looked at the White Lady. She stood tall, her eyes bright in her pale face, her healthy hand clenched as she turned and gazed out of his window that opened to the East.  
  
"Is there naught to do?" she said, "Who commands in this City?"  
  
"The Lord Faramir is by right the Steward of the City," said the Warden.  
  
"Where can I find him?"  
  
"In this house, lady. He was wounded, but is now set again on the way to health. But I do not know ."  
  
"Will you not bring me to him? Then you will know," replied Éowyn impatiently.  
  
------------------------  
  
The Lord Faramir was walking alone in the garden of the Houses of Healing. The sunlight warmed him and he felt life run new in his veins, but his heart was heavy as he looked eastward over the walls.  
  
The Warden approached him, followed by Éowyn of Rohan. Though Faramir hadn't met her before, he knew at one who she was, and his heart was filled with sympathy for she was hurt and he had heard how she had come to her wounds. And beyond her wounded arm, he saw her sorrow and unrest.  
  
The Warden introduced her. "Milord, here is the Lady Éowyn of Rohan. She rode with the king and was sorely hurt in battle. She dwells now in my keeping, but she is not content, and she wishes to speak to the Steward of the City."  
  
Eowyn looked at the Steward of Gondor and felt shy. Faramir was fair to behold and he bore a stance of bravery and kindness at the same time that immediately touched Éowyn.  
  
"Do not misunderstand him, lord," she said. "It is not lack of care that grieves me. No houses could be fairer for those who desire to be healed. But I cannot lie idle, caged. I looked for death in battle. But I have not died, and the battle still goes on."  
  
Faramir sent the Warden away.  
  
"What would you have me do, lady?" he said, "I am a prisoner of the healers as well."  
  
He looked at the White Lady, and it seemed to him that her loveliness in her grief would break his heart. And she looked at him and saw the grave tenderness in his eyes, and Éowyn knew, for she had been bred among men of war, that here was one whom no Rider of the Mark would outmatch in battle.  
  
"What do you wish?" he said again. "If it lies in my power, I will do it."  
  
"I would have you command this Warden to let me go," she said. Though her words were still proud, her heart faltered, and for the first time she doubted herself. She guessed that this tall man, both stern and gentle, might think her merely testy because of her insistence for leaving. He would not understand.  
  
"I also find myself in the Warden's keeping," answered Faramir. "And I have not yet taken up my authority in the City. But had I done so, I should still listen to his counsel, and should not cross his will in matters of his craft, unless in some great need."  
  
"But I do not desire healing," she said. "'I wish to ride to war like my brother Éomer, or better like Théoden the king, for he died fighting and has now both: honor and peace."  
  
"It is too late to follow the Captains, Lady Eowyn, even if you had the strength," said Faramir. "But death in battle may come to us all yet, willing or unwilling. You and I, we must endure with patience the hours of waiting."  
  
She did not answer, but as he looked at her it seemed to him that something in her softened, as though a bitter frost were yielding at the first faint presage of spring.  
  
A lonely tear fell from her eye and fell down her cheek, and her proud head fell a little. She recognized her defeat. She was trapped.  
  
Quietly, as if speaking to herself, Éowyn said, "The healers would have me lie down for seven days yet. And my window does not look eastward." Her voice was now that of a maiden young and sad.  
  
Faramir smiled, though his heart was filled with sympathy and admiration.  
  
"Your window does not look eastward?" he said. "That can be mended. In this I will command the Warden. If you stay in this house in our care, lady, and take your due rest, then you shall walk in this garden in the sun and look east, where all our hopes have gone. And here you will find me, walking and waiting, and also looking east. It would ease my care if you would speak to me or walk at whiles with me."  
  
The White Lady raised her head and looked at Faramir's face, and a blush tinted her pale cheeks. "How should I ease your care, my lord?" she said, "I do not desire the speech of living men."  
  
"Would you have my plain answer?" he said. Her grave eyes and a slight nod was all he needed to continue. "Then, Éowyn of Rohan, I say to you that you are beautiful. I have never before set eyes on any woman in Gondor so lovely and so sorrowful. It would ease my heart if while the Sun yet shines I could see you. For you and I have both passed under the wings of the Shadow, and the same hand drew us back to life."  
  
"Shadow lies on me still, Steward of Gondor. Look not to me for healing, for I am a shieldmaiden and my hand is ungentle. But I thank you for this at least, that I need not keep to my chamber. I will walk abroad by the grace of the Lord Faramir."  
  
With a curtsey she turned away and walked back to the house. But Faramir for a long while walked alone in the garden, and his glance now strayed rather to the house than to the eastward walls.  
  
----------------  
  
The next morning, as Faramir came out to the gardens, he saw Éowyn, as she stood upon the walls; and she was clad all in white, and gleamed in the sun. He called to her, and she came down, and they walked on the grass or sat under a green tree together, now in silence, now in speech. And each day after they did likewise. With time, the Steward understood something of the grief and unrest of Éowyn of Rohan. And he saw beyond her melancholic beauty and courageous heart, admiring and cherishing her free spirit and inner strength, and finding that she was driven to battle and fight by her unrelenting hopelessness.  
  
Éowyn saw herself only as a prisoner of her station and gender. She did not see her own beauty or bravery But Faramir did, and every hour he spent with her he was more drawn to the Lady of Rohan.  
  
The fifth day came since the Lady Éowyn went first to Faramir; and they stood now together once more upon the walls of the City and looked out. No tidings had yet come, and all hearts were darkened. The weather was cold and the lands surrounding looked grey.They were clad in warm clothing and heavy cloaks, and over all the Lady Éowyn wore a great blue mantle of the color of deep summer-night and set with silver stars about the hem and throat. Faramir had sent for this robe and had wrapped it about her; he thought that she looked fair and queenly indeed as she stood there at his side. The mantle had belonged to his mother, and it was to him but a memory of loveliness in far days and of his first grief; and the robe seemed to him a garment fitting for the beauty and sadness of Éowyn.  
  
But she was shivering beneath the starry mantle, and she looked northward, above the gray far lands, into the eye of the cold wind where far away the sky was hard and clear.  
  
"What do you look for, Éowyn?" asked Faramir.  
  
"Does not the Black Gate and the land or Mordor lay there?" she asked. "Those dearest to my heart rode to face the evil. I fret for them and wish I would be at their side. It has been four days since they rode away."  
  
"Four days," said Faramir. "I beg you not to think ill of me, but they have brought me both a joy and a pain that I had never thought to know. Joy to see you, but pain, because now the fear and doubt of this evil time have grown dark indeed. Éowyn, I would not have this world end now, for fear of losing so soon what I have found."  
  
"Lose what you have found, milord?" she said. Her eyes, grave but kind, were set on him. "I do not know what in these days you could have found that you may lose. But, my friend, let us not speak of it! Let us not speak at all!"  
  
And they said no more; and it seemed to them as they stood upon the wall that time stood still, the wind died, and the light failed, and all sounds in the City or in the lands about were hushed: neither wind, nor voice, nor bird-call, nor rustle of leaf, nor their own breath could be heard; even the very beating of their hearts was stilled. Time halted.  
  
In that strange moment, as both felt fear and uncertainty took hold of their hearts, their hands met and clasped, though they where not aware of it. And still they waited for something they did not know.  
  
A tremor ran through the earth, and they felt the walls of the City quiver. A sound like a sigh went up from all the lands about them; finally, their hearts beat suddenly again.  
  
"Darkness inescapable. I often dream of it," said Faramir softly, surprised to hear his own voice after the dreadful silence.  
  
"Then you think that the Darkness is coming?" said Éowyn, drawing closer to him.  
  
"No," he replied, looking into her face. "It was but a picture in the mind. I do not know what is happening. The reason of my waking mind tells me that great evil has befallen and we stand at the end of days. But my heart says no and all my limbs are light, and a hope and joy have come to me that no reason can deny. Éowyn, White Lady of Rohan, in this somber hour I do not believe that any darkness will endure!" He dared then to bend his head and kiss her brow.  
  
And so they stood on the walls of the City of Gondor as a great wind rose and blew. As the Shadow departed, the Sun was unveiled, and light poured over Minas Tirith. The waters of Anduin shone like silver and in all the houses of the City men sang for the joy that welled up in their hearts from what source they could not tell.  
  
Before the Sun had set far from the noon, from the East came a great Eagle flying, and he cried for everyone to hear, "Sing now, people of Middle Earth, for the Realm of Sauron is ended for ever, and the Dark Tower has fallen."  
  
The people of Gondor were filled with joy and sang in all the streets of the City.  
  
---------------------  
  
In the following days the White City prepared for the coming of the King.  
  
Faramir took over his duties as Steward of the City and he saw Eowyn seldom, being busy with many matters. She dwelt still in the Houses of Healing and walked alone in the garden, and her face grew pale again. It seemed that in all the City she only was ailing and sorrowful.  
  
Faramir sought her at last, and once more they stood on the walls together. He said to her, "Éowyn, why do you linger here? Do you not rejoice in the victory over the evil of Mordor? You seem to fade away; you are but a shadow of yourself." His manner towards her showed his concern.  
  
Éowyn said, "Do you not know? Have you not read my heart before, my friend?" She stood proud and sad, facing the wind, her eyes lost in the distance.  
  
He answered, "Two reasons there may be, but which is true, I do not know."  
  
She looked into his kind eyes and said, "I do not wish to play at riddles. Speak plainer!"  
  
Faramir took a deep breath and walked closer to her, for he knew he had to be harsh on what he was going to tell her. He hesitated for a second at the thought of hurting his friend, his companion, the woman he had come to love. But there were words that had to be said.  
  
"You are sad because to look on the Lord Aragorn in his triumph brings you no joy. I was told you have set your heart upon Arathorn's son, who does not return your affection," he paused trying to decipher the shadows in her eyes. But her expression remained inescrutable. He risked probing for her feelings towards him. "Or maybe you are stricken because I have left the Houses of Healing and you desire to be near me. And maybe for both these reasons, and you yourself cannot choose between them. Éowyn, do you not love me, or will you not?"  
  
Éowyn was suddenly struck by Faramir's words, and she flushed, replying softly, "I wished to be loved by another. But I desire no man's pity."  
  
The Steward of Gondor was stricken. "That I know, milady" he said, "You desired to have the love of the Lord Aragorn. Because he was a great captain and a leader of men, heir of kings, and a great man, as I have been told, and he seems to you admirable. For so he is, a lord among men, the greatest that now is. But when he gave you only understanding and pity, then you desired to have nothing, unless a brave death in battle. But even that was taken from you. Now look at me, Éowyn!". Faramir lay his hand gently upon Éowyn's arm, shaken slightly by the emotions overwhelming him.  
  
The White Lady looked at Faramir long and steadily, her broken heart and lost will for life shadowing her clear eyes Finally Faramir told her, "Do not scorn pity that is the gift of a gentle heart, Éowyn! But I do not offer you my pity. For you are a lady high and valiant and have yourself won renown that shall not be forgotten, and you are beautiful beyond even the words of the Elven-tongue to tell. And I love you. Once I pitied your sorrow, but not anymore. Were you without sorrow, without fear or any lack, were you the blissful Queen of Gondor, still I would love you. Éowyn, do you not love me?"  
  
She looked away from him, searching in her mind and in her heart for the answer to that question. The girl who had fallen in love with Aragorn in Edoras was no longer; in her stead was the reminder of the shieldmaiden she had been, a woman touched by grief, defeat and self-contempt. But that was the woman Faramir's kindness had touched, brightening her dark days and making her feel beautiful, important, and cherished.  
  
Éowyn saw Faramir anew, as if a veil had fallen from her eyes. This brave and kind man had gotten into her heart without her being even aware of it. His presence had been what she had been missing, his warm smile, his wise and patient eyes. Him, and no other.  
  
"I did not know it until today, Faramir. But I do love you, and I never desired to be a queen," she said.  
  
Faramir laughed merrily. "That is good, milady," he said, "for I am not a king. Yet I will wed the White Lady of Rohan, if it be her will. And if she will, we shall cross the River and look for happier days dwelling in fair Ithilien and there make a garden. All things will grow with joy there, if the White Lady comes."  
  
"Then we shall dwell in Ithilien, Faramir, but the one who will wed you is not the White Lady of Rohan, but only Éowyn, daughter of Éomund and Théodwyn. Do you still want to wed me?" she said to him.  
  
Faramir could not help himself anymore: he took her in his arms and kissed her under the sunlit sky, and he cared not that they stood high upon the walls in the sight of many. And many indeed saw them and the light that shone about them as they came down from the walls and went hand in hand to the Houses of Healing.  
  
****  
  
On the third day after the fall of the Black Tower, Cyrene and Dumetar arrived in Minas Tirith. They visited Faramir and the Captains in charge of the city to report on the battle of the Morannon, and then they were dismissed to rest in their assigned quarters. But Cyrene went with swift paces, in spite of her wound and her fatigue, to visit Éowyn. She wanted to see her friend immediately and reassure herself that Éowyn was fine.  
  
She found her friend in the Houses of Healing, helping the women tend the wounded who were still there. Cyrene halted at the entrance of the main room and watched her friend working, with her arm in a sling, walking through the wounded and speaking to each of them. Yes, Eowyn was well.  
  
Eowyn did not notice Cyrene's arrival until one of the women told her of the strange woman standing at the door.  
  
Three weeks had passed since Cyrene had left Edoras to fight at Helm's Deep, and Eowyn saw the changes in her dearest friend at her first glance.  
  
Even though Cyrene's face was smiling brightly at seeing her, Eowyn could not ignore the dark shadows beneath the eyes, the gaunt set of her features, the sadness in her companion's look. Cyrene had lost weight and she looked tired and weary. But she was there. Eowyn almost ran to the Amazon, and both women embraced another.  
  
"I have missed you, Cyrene. My heart is filled with joy seeing you well and alive," said Eowyn.  
  
"I am pleased and amazed to see you recovered and up, my sister!" said Cyrene, hugging her friend carefully as to not hurt her wounded arm, but relishing in the feeling of the shieldmaiden's love for her.  
  
"Is my brother well? An eagle brought the tidings of the outcome of the battle but no news of the welfare of any of the warriors, except for the Lord Aragorn. Did the Rohirrim fight well?" asked Eowyn, with concern in her eyes.  
  
"Do you doubt it? Last I spoke to Eomer, after the battle, he was well and though many Rohirrim fell during the fight, we were lucky to have achieved victory. You will be proud. Theoden would have been proud of his people as well," said Cyrene.  
  
"I am proud, Cyrene, and I am pleased to know my brother has survived the battle unharmed, as you have. Theoden King was always proud of the Rohirrim, and he inspired their bravery until his very end. I will miss him," the White Lady said, and both women lowered their heads in respect for the fallen King.  
  
Eowyn lifted her head and gave her friend a little smile. "He would not be pleased at our mourning. You must be exhausted. Will you share my chambers? I will ask for a hot bath for you and then you may rest. The fighting is over, Cyrene," she continued.  
  
The Amazon nodded, "Yes, my friend, I will gladly stay with you while I attend my duties here. A hot bath would be a gift from the Goddess, Eowyn," Cyrene said.  
  
"Then follow me, dear sister. You have earned a gift from the gods!" said Éowyn, turning away and leading Cyrene to their chambers.  
  
Cyrene sighed as she followed her friend. Cyrene had received a gift from the gods and had rejected it. The mere thought of Legolas tore her heart apart. But now she would be able to talk about her feelings and her choices to someone she trusted would understand: Éowyn. And maybe she would find the strength to go on with her life.  
  
***  
  
Éowyn sat on her bed, observing her best friend for the last years leaning back in the wooden tub, enjoying the soothing sensation of the warm water upon her bruised body. For the long time she had known Cyrene and in spite of her friend's tendency to guard many mysteries about herself, this was a mood she had never seen in her friend before. Without question, Cyrene was sad.  
  
"Éowyn, you seem to be pleased with your life. I am overjoyed to see you recovering and happy," said Cyrene, pausing before asking, "Have you overcome your infatuation with Aragorn?"  
  
The question caught Éowyn by surprise. But there was no other she would trust with her most intimate feelings than Cyrene.  
  
"I have recognized that I was not in love with him, my friend. I was in love with the idea of him, with leaving Edoras and being able to stand up to the memory of the shieldmaidens of old, not just sit in Meduseld or any other castle waiting for a male to grace me with his affection or attention. Not even Theoden or Eomer. Now, I have reflected on this, I have also found someone that loves me, and I have come to love him as well." Having said this, Éowyn turned to the bathtub to see Cyrene's reaction. The Amazon was smiling brightly at her.  
  
"You found a man worthy of your love, my sister? I am filled with joy, Éowyn, for you seem to be happy with your choice," said Cyrene. "Is it some warrior I know? Tell me, I beg you, I want to know everything about the one who has brought light to your eyes and love to your heart," continued the dark-haired woman. She rose from the water and fetched a cloth to dry herself and wrap around her body. Then she walked to Éowyn and sat by her side.  
  
As she spoke, the lady of Rohan's face glowed with the light of newfound love and contentment. "It is Farmir, Steward of Gondor. He lay here in the Houses of Healing recovering from the Black Death as well, and he gave me company and understanding through the bleak hours when I thought I had failed Rohan and myself. He showed me the true meaning of life and achievement, beyond even warfare and glory. We will wed and settle in Ithilien, to forge new dwellings for those who wish to begin a new life after evil has departed. Faramir gives me love and joy, and I found in him someone with whom I can love and share the rest of my days."  
  
Hesitating for a couple of seconds, Cyrene reached out and enfolded her friend in a tight embrace, careful not to press the broken arm.  
  
"By the Goddess, Eowyn! I would give my right hand to ensure your happiness and well being. I have missed you, sister!" she said.  
  
Eowyn returned the embrace with her good arm. "So did I, Cyrene. I missed you, but we did overcome all the trials. We are here, together again. We have fought our share for the defeat of the Dark Lord. But even with the high price we had to pay, we have vanquished evil. "  
  
They looked at each other and shadows filled their eyes as they both thought of Theoden, the warriors who had died on the battlefields, and their own personal losses. Éowyn had lost her childhood dreams, but found her calling and her love. Cyrene had found and lost her first and only love, Legolas.  
  
The Amazon shook her head lightly, to banish memories and regrets. "It was a high price indeed. But it could have been higher still. When we arrived to fight on the fields of the Pelennor, Eomer told us that you had fallen at the same time than Theoden. I felt my heart burst in pain, Éowyn. If you would have died, I would have never forgiven myself."  
  
The White Lady was intrigued. "Forgive yourself? What for, Cyrene?"  
  
"For failing you and our promise. I promised to fight by your side, and you faced the beast and its rider alone. Maybe if I had been there ."  
  
"You could have not prevented my injury, Theoden's death, or my ride into battle with the éored. We agreed to meet on the field, but it wasn't meant to be. You had your duty and I had mine. It was my choice to leave Edoras and join the Army of the Mark," Eowyn took her friend's hand and clasped it. "We trained together: you taught me your skill and honed mine. If I was able to face the Ringwraith it was because of your help and friendship. You gave me the weapons, but it was my choice, Cyrene. My own free will, not your responsibility."  
  
"Forgive me, Éowyn, for doubting your ability for making your choices upon your own life. You are right: I should not diminish your actions by taking the responsibility upon myself. You are a true warrior, shieldmaiden, Amazon at heart, and I salute you as it befits a hero amidst warriors," said Cyrene, ashamed, but also relieved from the burden of guilt she had been bearing. Éowyn was right.  
  
"You are a hero amidst warriors yourself, my sister. I heard of your deeds as well. And I also heard that you had found your mate in the Elf-Lord of Mirkwood. Is this true? Have you, the proud Amazon, fallen under a male's love spell?" asked Éowyn, with a smile on her face.  
  
A shadow fell over Cyrene's heart. "I have indeed yielded to a male, Éowyn. An outstanding warrior, a kind and honorable man. Legolas gave me great joy and sorrow, and though I do not regret a minute of our time together, we have parted for good."  
  
"Why did you part, my sister? Did he not return your feelings? Are you unsure of sharing your life with him?" pursued Éowyn. The sadness that haunted her friend's face hurt her.  
  
"It was my choice, Éowyn. I learned with him the meaning of love and he gave himself to me with heart and soul. But I could not bear what joining with me for life would have meant to him. I was told that if Legolas bound himself to me he would lose his immortality. I could not let him forfeit his life just for some decades with me. So I deserted him, breaking his heart, denying our feelings for another." Cyrene closed her eyes wearily. "I know that elves are immortal, and I was willing to bind myself to him and endure his eternal youth and beauty while I withered due to age. But I cannot allow Legolas to bind himself to me permanently and then lose his life. I cannot and will not, I cannot bear it, Éowyn."  
  
And for the first time in their long friendship, Éowyn felt as if she were the stronger of the two. She took the Amazon's hand in hers. "My sister, the weight of the choice was again not yours to bear. I see the distress this causes you. But you have now, in your effort to protect those you love, taken Legolas's choice from him. And if he loves you, as I imagine he must love you, you have not been fair. You gave your heart freely, you should also yield to fate and trust him to choose wisely."  
  
"I see it now, Éowyn. And I have also learned that without him life has no purpose or meaning. I could just as well die as soon as I have fulfilled my duties," stated Cyrene, her proud head drooping in hopelessness.  
  
A soft hand cradled her cheek and lifted her face. "You will not give in to despair or hopelessness, my sister," said Éowyn. "You will speak to Legolas and let him make his choice, but I think that he already made it. And if he should be foolish enough to part from you, then you will come with me to Ithilien and we shall build a new kingdom for those who seek a new life. Will you, Cyrene?"  
  
"Yes, Éowyn, I shall. As well as I should forever thank the Goddess for the gift of your friendship."  
  
*** 


	31. Chapter Thirty One: UNSPOKEN WORDS

A/N: Thank you as always, Vivchen, my dearest beta!  
Thank you also dear readers, who still follow this story!  
  
Chapter XXXI: Unspoken words  
  
The Army of the West camped outside Osgiliath on their journey back to Minas Tirith. The King was returning to his kingdom.  
  
Legolas looked up to the starry sky, gathering his thoughts, like he did every night since he had parted from Cyrene. He knew that some of the Fair Folk had died of grief, but he had never thought about how it would feel to bear the burden of heartbreak and despair. Now he knew.  
  
It was as if a heavy mist settled on everything around him; people and places blurred from his senses and the real feeling of loss overshadowed all other sensations and emotions.  
  
Legolas made an effort to stay focused on Aragorn and Gimli, prying himself away from the mental fog. He still needed to see Aragorn crowned and fulfill his promise to his dwarven friend to visit Fangorn Forest, but somehow all his commitments and promises seemed distant and unimportant. Legolas missed Cyrene. He could hardly remember how he was able to live thousands of years before meeting her. But she had deserted him and he had no choice but to bear his fate and keep on existing, until he finally faded away into oblivion.  
  
For a last time, he prayed to the Valar for a merciful death. When his time came near, he would leave his friends behind and seek a quiet place to pass away.  
  
***  
  
Aella and Gimli lay together inside Aella's tent. Gimli was extremely careful with the Amazon, since she still could not walk unaided and her leg was still healing. Both enjoyed the comfort of their lovers' embrace, but their thoughts were with Legolas and Cyrene.  
  
"He has gone away again. I have no the heart to talk about it with him. He is fading though," said Gimli. His hand played with Aella's fire-red hair.  
  
"Fading?" asked the small Amazon.  
  
"Elves can die either in battle or of grief, beloved. Legolas is dying," explained Gimli.  
  
Aella sat up abruptly, wincing at the pain it caused as she moved her injured leg. "Are you jesting, Gimli? He cannot be dying! It would mean that Cyrene's own sacrifice has been for naught!"  
  
"Lay down again, Aella. You are hurting yourself. And explain to me about Cyrene's sacrifice," the dwarf said, pushing Aella back into the pillows. It was amazing even to himself that the fiery little woman brought out such tender feelings in him. The Amazon laid down and her hand trailed a tender caress across Gimli's cheek. He was a loyal friend, an impressive warrior, and a good mate. She could see herself bound to him for the rest of her life, but they had not discussed the future yet.  
  
"Cyrene has left Legolas because she does not want him to lose his immortality. She was told that elves lose their eternal life if they bound themselves to mortals. She could not bear the thought of being the cause of his death," Aella explained.  
  
"I have no greater knowledge of the elven ways than most of my people, Aella, but I am sure that Legolas could not lose his immortality by binding himself to a human And he is already fading, because he gave her his heart and she deserted him. You see it yourself, every day he is ... further away."  
  
Aella nodded gravely. She had seen the change in Legolas since they had met after the battle of the Morannon. He hadn't even inquired about Cyrene. Instead he had settled into the passive role of Gimli's companion: helping Aella to mount and dismount, setting up the tent and the fire with them, and silently leaving by nightfall and not returning until dawn. The Mirkwood elf was barely a shadow of his former self, and it hurt her to see him that way.  
  
"Is it true that elves cannot lose their immortality by binding themselves to humans, then? But he is dying because they are not together? This is a cruel twist of fate, Gimli! We cannot let it happen!" said Aella, almost jumping up and remembering just in time that she could not stand unassisted.  
  
"Beloved, we will do whatever is in our might to bring them together once again. And let them speak honestly to another. But until then, if you will not take care of yourself, I will have to tie you down, Aella," the dwarf said, pulling her back on the pallet.  
  
"I just can't bear watching them fall apart when it is plain they belong together!" protested the small redhead.  
  
"As I said, we will do our best. Although the final decision is in their hands, we will do everything we can for them. I promise this to you," Gimli said solemnly.  
  
"I believe in you, Gimli," sighed Aella.  
  
"I believe in you too, my beloved Amazon" said Gimli, holding the woman closer.  
  
But their embrace was tense: They were working against time.  
  
***  
  
On the day the Captains of the West led their host towards the City the sun shone bright upon them and folk saw them advance in line upon line, flashing and glinting in the sunrise and rippling like silver.  
  
They came before the Gateway and halted a hundred paces from the walls. No gates had been set up yet, but across the entrance to the City stood men at arms in silver and black with long swords drawn. There stood Faramir the Steward and other captains of Gondor and the Lady Éowyn of Rohan with Elfhelm the Marshal, Cyrene the Amazon, and many knights of the Mark.  
  
Éowyn's eyes surveyed the scene A deep silence fell upon all people gathered, as out from the ranks of the army stepped the Dúnedain, and leading them was Aragorn. With him were Éomer of Rohan and the Prince Imrahil, Legolas Greenleaf, Gimli the dwarf, Gandalf robed all in white, and four small figures that many men marveled to see.  
  
It was the first time that Éowyn had seen Aragorn since he had left Edoras for the Paths of the Dead. So much had happened since then, and as her gaze settled on the magnificent form of the King, she wondered about other twists her fate could have taken. Still, as events had evolved, she had the satisfaction of having taken her destiny in her own hands and made her choices.  
  
Eowyn's eyes searched for the Steward of Gondor, her most recent choice. Faramir sat proud and handsome on his mount, wearing the armor and clothes of his rank. He looked regal and serene, observing placidly as the new King of Gondor approached the City. Eowyn knew now that she had chosen right. Although Aragorn was strong and impressive as a man and a leader of men, she wouldn't want that if she had to sacrifice the kindness and love of Faramir, steady as the seasons, warm as sunlight. The Gods had been generous to her.  
  
A single trumpet rang, and silence followed. From the Gate Faramir approached, leading four men in the high helms and armor of the White City, bearing a great casket of black metal bound with silver.  
  
Faramir met Aragorn and knelt, saying, "The last Steward of Gondor begs leave to surrender his office."  
  
He held out a white rod, the device of a steward, but Aragorn took the rod and gave it back, saying, "That office is not ended, and it shall be yours and your heirs' as long as my line shall last. Do now your duty!"  
  
Faramir stood up and spoke in a clear voice, "Here is Aragorn son of Arathorn, chieftain of the Dúnedain of Arnor, Captain of the Host of the West, bearer of the Star of the North, wielder of the Sword Reforged, victorious in battle, whose hands bring healing, the Elfstone, Elessar of the line of Valandil, Isildur's son, Elendil's son of Númenor. Shall he be king and enter into the City and dwell there?"  
  
All the gathered people cried, "Yes!" with one voice.  
  
Then the guards stepped forward, and Faramir reverently opened the casket and held up an ancient crown. It was shaped like the helms of the Guards of the Citadel, save that it was loftier, and it was all white, with wings at either side in the likeness of the wings of a sea-bird.  
  
Aragorn took the crown and held it up and said, "Out of the Great Sea to Middle-earth I have come. In this place will I abide, and my heirs, unto the ending of the world."  
  
Then, to the wonder of many, Aragorn did not put the crown upon his head, but instead gave it back to Faramir and said, "By the labor and courage of many have I come into my inheritance. In token of this I would have the Ringbearer bring the crown to me, and then Mithrandir set it upon my head, if he will, for he has been the mover of all that has been accomplished. This is their victory."  
  
Frodo came forward and took the crown from Faramir and brought it to Gandalf. Aragorn knelt, and Gandalf set the White Crown upon his head, saying, "Now come the days of the King, and may they be blessed while the thrones of the Valar endure!"  
  
And in that moment all the trumpets sounded, and the King Elessar walked towards the destroyed gates of the city. Followed by joyful music and the singing of clear voices, the King passed through the flower-laden streets leading to the Citadel, and as he entered it the banner of the Tree and the Stars was unfurled upon the highest tower, and the reign of King Elessar began.  
  
***  
  
Though both were intent on focusing their attention upon the crowning of the King, Legolas and Cyrene could not take their eyes away from another. Now that their duties had been fulfilled, they were drawn to another like metal to magnet. But the thoughts they harbored could not be more opposed. While Cyrene nervously anticipated talking to Legolas, Legolas felt the pain in his soul deepen by the mere sight of the Amazon. He would not seek her, and if he could, he would leave Minas Tirith as soon as possible.  
  
The elf rode up to the citadel with the entourage of the new King, dismounted, and helped the dwarf to reach the ground. Sighing, he said, "I will not stay in the City now, Gimli. I need to ride to the coast. I shall reflect on many matters that cannot be postponed. Please give my apologies to the King. I may return in a couple of days in time for the coronation."  
  
"You may return?" queried Gimli, louder than intended. The dwarf knew that Legolas meant he may not survive this last trip. And Gimli would be damned if he was going to let his friend face alone whatever fate had in store for him. He would fight for the elf's life as long as he had energy left.  
  
"You will not go anywhere without me, Master Elf. I shall not leave your side."  
  
A sad smile settled on Legolas's lips. "You are a true friend and brother in arms, Gimli, and I never dreamt I should find my best companion in you. But you are that. Still, there are people awaiting you and I would prefer to make this journey on my own."  
  
"Never, my lad. You shall not ride alone. Swear to me by the Valar that you will await me for a moment, while I say my farewells to Aella. Will you?" asked Gimli.  
  
Legolas sighed and nodded wearily. Maybe it was better if the dwarf rode with him and could later give notice of his fate. "I will wait for you."  
  
Gimli rushed as fast as his legs would carry him to Aella. "Legolas will not stay in the city. We are leaving for the coast." He took a deep breath. "I shall lead him towards the last camp we made before encountering the Amazons. Tell this to Cyrene, she will know, beloved. I hope that Cyrene and you can reach us before it is too late. Farewell." Hastily he took Aella's hand in his and kissed it, and then turned on his heel and ran back to where Legolas was patiently awaiting him.  
  
Once both were on Arod's back again, the elf turned the horse and his keen eyes caught sight of Cyrene running down the steps of the Citadel towards them. A pang of hurt lanced his senses, but he did not want any more confrontations with her. Turning his mount, he left at a quick canter for the city gates.  
  
Cyrene stood at the top of the stairs, patiently waiting for Legolas and Gimli to climb the steps. The rest of Elessar's entourage had already passed. She had prepared in her mind the words and the manner with which she would approach Legolas. Once she had decided to talk to him and apologize and explain her previous behavior to the elf, she felt her heart lighten. Of course, the insecurity of not knowing how he would react to her confession made her nervous as she had ever been.  
  
Her eyes settled on his figure as he dismounted and helped Gimli down. Then he stayed by his horse, not approaching her at all, but she told herself to wait. For a moment Cyrene recalled that she was commander of the Amazons and a princess. Such a person should avoid any public display that might dishonor her station. So, patiently, she kept on waiting.  
  
As she saw Legolas help Gimli up on his horse again and mount swiftly in front of the dwarf, she saw she had lost a precious opportunity. Legolas was leaving, and Cyrene hadn't talked to him. She ran down the stairs, damning to Hades the pride that had made her hesitate.  
  
As Cyrene reached the end of the stairs, they were riding out of Minas Tirith. She knew that she could not catch them. But she ran until her breath came in heaves.  
  
***  
  
Aella lay in the Houses of Healing under the care of Éowyn and the company of Cyrene. The Princess of the Amazons was not very good company. After the incident at the stairs of the Citadel the day before, Cyrene had turned her attention to preparing the departure of the amazons from the White City.Everything was readied in Dol Amroth and the Amazons would part from Minas Tirith at dawn of the following day. She would do anything to distract her thoughts of Legolas. Torn between her wounded pride and chastising herself for having let him ride away, Cyrene could not think of the next action to take. She needed time.  
  
Cyrene had commanded Aella to stay in Minas Tirith and await her return, to rest and tend her injuries.  
  
Aella had hoped to be able to speak to her friend about Legolas, but Cyrene did not linger in the Houses of Healing. She came by only briefly, to ask the small Amazon about her leg's progress and discuss details about their troops. Aella noticed then that Eowyn, like Aella, seemed to be looking at Cyrene with the same expectancy. As if she were waiting for Cyrene to mention the elf.  
  
Aella decided to approach Éowyn and see if the Lady of Rohan knew something about Cyrene's troubles. The small Amazon was aware that Cyrene's friendship with the shieldmaiden of Rohan was deep, and for a moment she felt a pang of jealousy. After all, Eowyn had been Cyrene's best friend and sister in arms for the last years while Aella had been left behind. But Aella did not have time for petty jealousies: the matter that worried her was pressing and had to be handled as soon as possible.  
  
When Éowyn visited Aella to see how she was faring, Aella got right to the point.  
  
"Lady Éowyn, I am very concerned about Cyrene. There is an important matter I have to speak to her about and she has no time. Or she makes no time. I have been unable to approach her on the issue. Would you help me?"  
  
Éowyn had sensed a change in Cyrene after the arrival of the King, and though she had been occupied helping Faramir with the attention to the new arrivals to the City, she had also noticed that Legolas was not among the guests of the Citadel. She wanted to ask if Cyrene had been able to speak to the elf, but she had been so busy with the accommodations and Faramir that she had forgotten about it. Now as Aella spoke, though,, Éowyn was reminded of it.  
  
"Do you wish me to ask Cyrene to come here, Aella?" asked Éowyn, and then on sudden impulse she decided to trust the Amazon. "Or do you wish to enlist my help into guiding Cyrene to see that her happiness lies in Master Legolas of Mirkwood?"  
  
Aella smiled, knowing she had found an ally.  
  
"So you know, Lady Éowyn? I am bound to my bed by this injury, but time is of the essence. I have to speak to Cyrene. It is very important that she speaks with Master Legolas. There have been misunderstandings and they have to explain to each other . . . "  
  
Éowyn shook her head lightly. "It was her intention to speak to him yesterday. I do not know if they spoke, but Master Legolas is not in the city, as far as I know. Maybe they exchanged words and it has been unpleasant for her . . ." she said, thinking of her own experience with Aragorn.  
  
"Nay, Lady. I do not believe that they have spoken to each other, because Gimli and Legolas left as soon as the new King entered the citadel. By the Goddess, I have to speak with Cyrene urgently, before she leaves for Dol Amroth," said Aella, moving to rise from the bed and biting back a curse as pain shot through her from her splinted leg. She dared not set down her foot on the ground.  
  
With swift movements Éowyn gently pushed Aella back on the pallet. "You shall not stand up and go looking for her, Aella, or else you will hurt yourself worse. I will bring Cyrene to you. Now lay down, Amazon, and be at ease."  
  
Aella looked up helplessly into the concerned gray eyes of the Lady of Rohan.  
  
"I shall trust you, Lady. I will await here until you bring Cyrene to me."  
  
"And shall not fail your trust, Aella" replied Éowyn with a smile.  
  
**  
  
The Amazon princess was in the stables, overseeing the work of the blacksmiths who were shoeing some of the Amazons' horses. It was not a task Cyrene was required to take upon herself, but she focused her attention on the details of the preparation for the ride to the coast.  
  
She had personally gathered the gear and equipment of her warriors, seen to the food they would need for the journey, spoken to each of the Amazons, organized the transport of those who could not ride due to wounds, and settled disputes and conflicts with other soldiers inside the Citadel.  
  
The warrior women, in spite of the long weeks co-existing with the men of the Army of the West, had plenty of difficulties in their daily activities in Minas Tirith. Xanthippe, who had taken over Aella's post as second in command while the little redhead remained in the Houses of Healing, had complained to Cyrene and beseeched her leader to leave the White City as soon as possible.  
  
"Our warriors are wary of the people of this city and their spirits are on the edge of behaving violently. We endure taunting and rude behavior from the soldiers and citizens, Mistress, for they do not know our ways and customs. We should leave at once, before blood is spilled."  
  
Cyrene sighed and ordered to prepare the departure even before sunset. The idea of leaving immediately was also welcome to her, troubled as she was with her own feelings and thoughts. Cyrene would not speak of her wounded pride or sadness to anyone. Not to Aella or Eowyn her sisters in arms and best friends. She hardly admitted to herself that she was hurt and confused.  
  
A part of her was screaming to ride after the elf, wherever he went, and beg his forgiveness, explaining her actions and letting Legolas make a choice for better or for worse.  
  
But the old Cyrene, Princess and Commander of Amazon warriors, demanded that she gathered the shreds of her pride and move on with her life. Without Legolas. He had left her, after all. He could not have missed her running after them, not after the display she had made of it.  
  
But Cyrene had no time for agony. She had still to fulfill the last part of her appointed mission, leading her warriors back to Dol Amroth. Only then would she be free again. Free to return to Edoras or to Minas Tirith or whichever kingdom she chose to offer her allegiance to.  
  
Still the Amazon could not deny that she longed to see him once again, speak to him with the hidden hope that Legolas would find a way for them to be together. Even though she had stubbornly fled from him, every day she spent away from the elf weighed heavy on her. She missed his presence, his affection, every moment of her day. So Cyrene fled any idle moment, occupying herself with whichever task at hand until she was exhausted and unable to think about Legolas.  
  
Now she was busy enough, preparing the ride. Once the mounts were ready, the Amazons would leave Minas Tirith within the hour.  
  
**  
  
As fate willed it, Eowyn was detained in the city. So she did not see Cyrene report to Eómer of her departure and say her farewells to the King.  
  
Aragorn presented Cyrene with gifts for her mother Myrine and asked Cyrene to return to the White City for his wedding to the Evenstar.  
  
"I will return, your Majesty. I am leaving my best warrior behind and those friends I cherish the most as well. I shall come back as soon as the Amazons have sailed from Dol Amroth," promised Cyrene, saluting Elessar.  
  
Éomer accompanied her to the stairs of the Citadel, where troops awaited her impatiently. The Amazons, mounted and in full armor, were a sight of legend.  
  
Cyrene turned to Éomer and saluted her liege. Then she whispered, "I had no time to say my goodbyes to Aella and Éowyn, my friend. Will you tell them I shall return soon, please?"  
  
"I will, my sister. Be at ease. You know you can rely on my friendship, Cyrene," replied Éomer, also in a low voice.  
  
"And I will cherish that friendship forever, Éomer," said Cyrene, mounting up and giving the sign for her warriors to ride out swiftly, not looking back.  
  
** 


	32. Chapter Thirty Two: AN ELF'S GRIEF AND A...

Immense thanks to my dear beta and all my friends that keep on bouncing the chapters and holding my hand through the hard labor of finishing this tale. Without them and the generous and kind support of the readers I wouldn't have come this far. Love and thanks, C.  
  
Chapter XXXII: AN ELF'S GRIEF AND A KING'S CHOICE  
  
Just like the time the Three Hunters had raced upon the plains of Rohan in pursuit of the Uruk Hai, Gimli was weary and sore. Though he loathed every moment he spent in the saddle, he did not say a word and endured the hard ride towards the coast.  
  
Their pace was now no less forced than in Rohan, but for a whole different reason: Legolas's life force was weakening, his spirit fading and he longed to reach the sea before going to the Halls of Mandos.  
  
It seemed ironic to the dwarf that the immortal and fair elves would be so vulnerable to the power of the higher emotions, enough to die out of a broken heart. It was true that Gimli could now understand that once an elf gave his unique love away, the loss of the beloved one could lead to deepest grief, and finally, to death.  
  
It was the second day of their journey, and the riders did not pause until it was too dark to ride. And by then, Gimli was sure that if Legolas could have given their mount his keen sight, they would have continued their journey.  
  
Legolas built a small fire, and Gimli appreciated that the gesture was for his sake alone. The elf was apathetic as he sat on the ground and handed Gimli a water flask and a piece of lembas-bread  
  
"You did not know I would ride with you, Legolas, but still you brought enough food," commented the dwarf.  
  
Legolas smiled. "I did not know . but I hoped. I have have become very attached to your company, my friend."  
  
Gimli had to laugh. "You would have to chain me down, Master Elf, to keep me from coming. This dwarf will not leave your side as far as you may need him."  
  
"'Tis odd, you know, my friend. When we started this journey we were beyond distrustful of each other. And now I can hardly think of any other companion I would prefer at my side on any journey, besides maybe Aragorn," whispered the elf. His beautiful features were drawn, his expression aged and weary.  
  
Gimli's heart ached at the sight of the elf's face. He dared to speak about the cause of Legolas' grief. "She loves you, Legolas. And you two belong together. I cannot understand ."  
  
"It may be that Cyrene loves me, even as much as I love her, Gimli. But she chose another path, and I am not able to stop my feelings for her. My life is forsaken, beyond my will," Legolas explained this calmly, stating the fact.  
  
"Then you must speak to her, woe to that stubborn female, make her understand! I will not sit here and see you die, Legolas. You are a warrior, and if you have given up, I have not. Damn you, thickheaded pointy- eared creature! Fight for you life, fight for your love!" screamed the dwarf, jumping to his feet in spite of his exhaustion and aching muscles. The elf's features showed confusion at the outburst. "It is not the way of elves to ."  
  
He was harshly interrupted. "I do not care about the ways of elves. I care about you and that woman. It is not the way of elves to fall in love with humans either. And it is not the way of elves to befriend dwarves. Fight this melancholy, Legolas, I demand it!" said Gimli and kicked a log into the fire, stomping away from the small camp.  
  
Legolas Greenleaf's eyes followed the dwarf into the darkness. And a slight spark of hope started growing inside of him. Gimli was right.  
  
****  
  
Eowyn of Rohan made her way though the courtiers and citizens that crowded the King's Hall. She walked with sure strides, looking for any Amazon that could tell her where Cyrene could be found.  
  
Many hours had passed since she had left Aella in the Houses of Healing, but being the highest-ranking lady in the City until the future Queen arrived was no easy task. Eowyn had been trained and groomed for ruling and organizing a kingdom since her childhood, and she received thankful looks for her efforts from Aragorn and Faramir, who were receiving the guests and people of the country. Still it was a taxing chore, and once she had seen to the court's needs and events of the day, Eowyn could pursue her original intent: finding Cyrene.  
  
But her eyes did not find even one Amazon in the hall, or in the Citadel for that matter. She went to the stable to fetch a mount and ride out to the Rohirrim's and Amazon's camp outside the City walls and found Eomer, who was inspecting the horses that had been brought as a gift for the King.  
  
A wide smile spread over the face of the White Lady, as her brother saw her arrival and opened his arms to embrace her. After the fight with the Witch King, it still seemed a wonder to Eomer that his sister was alive and well. Her arm was still sore and had to be used carefully, but Eowyn looked rosy and healthy, the joy of her newfound love shining bright in her clear eyes.  
  
"Brother! I did not expect to find you here. Are you well, Eomer?" said Eowyn as soon as she could breathe again after his tight embrace.  
  
Eomer sighed into his sister's hair. "I am well, Eowyn. Every time I see you, my heart holds its beat and starts all over again. I wish to never have to think you dead again."  
  
"I promise to avoid further encounters with evil creatures, brother, as long as they do not threaten those beloved to me," she replied, caressing Eomer's cheek.  
  
He smiled gently, pouring into that smile all the love he felt for his sister.  
  
"I have to speak to Cyrene, brother, and I cannot seem to find her or any of her warriors in the Citadel. Can you lend me a horse to ride out and look for her in your camp ." started Eowyn.  
  
"The Amazons are gone, Eowyn. They left before noon. Cyrene told me to give you her farewells and a message that she would return to the City in time for the King's wedding," interrupted Eomer.  
  
The look in Eowyn's face must have shown her horror, for Eomer was alarmed as well. "Sister, is something amiss?"  
  
"I had to tell Cyrene something before she left. It was very important. Was her departure not planned for the early morrow?" said Eowyn starting to pace quickly and trying to figure out what to do.  
  
"Indeed, she planned to leave at dawn, but it seems that there were some . incidents between the Amazon warriors and men of the city. So she decided to leave at once and left the message I gave you. Forgive me if I did not seek you out sooner, but I did not think it was a pressing matter," said Eomer, confused at his sister's behavior.  
  
Eowyn looked at her brother. She knew about Eomer's recent feelings for Cyrene, and she felt sympathy for his unrequited love. It was even worse then her infatuation for Aragorn, for Eomer knew Cyrene well and they had shared a deep friendship for a long time. But she could understand Cyrene's own discovery of love in the person of Legolas, for Eowyn had also found her true mate in Faramir, without ever expecting it.  
  
"It is a matter of importance that concerns Cyrene and Legolas. I have to find a way to reach her as soon as possible. I cannot await her return. I shall ride after her right now ." Eowyn spoke her thoughts aloud, already walking towards the stable of her horse. She halted when she felt her brother's hand upon her uninjured arm.  
  
"Eowyn, you have duties in Minas Tirith, and your betrothed is here as well. You cannot ride after Cyrene. If it is such an important matter, I shall go to her for you. Is that your wish, sister?" asked Eomer softly.  
  
Eowyn looked at the King of Rohan and hesitated. Would he be able to speak to Cyrene and convince her to ride after the elf, even if it meant crushing all his own hopes for conquering the Amazon's affections? Would he be willing to do it?  
  
***  
  
For an awkward moment, Aella looked from Eomer's guarded expression to Eowyn's expectant face. They sat by her bed in the Houses of Healing, telling her that Cyrene had ridden away without even saying goodbye and that there was nothing Aella could do to keep her promise to Gimli and help to bring Amazon and elf to their senses.  
  
"You must be jesting, Eowyn. I cannot believe that the Gods would be willing to let this happen. And I will not resign myself to see two people who obviously belong together torn apart by words said or left unspoken. I shall not abide it!" fumed the little Amazon Then she sat up, not even blinking at the numb pain of her leg. She reached for her armor and gear and started dressing up.  
  
Eowyn laid a soft hand on the Amazon's arm. "Aella, you cannot do this. Eomer will ride after Cyrene, but tell him what is it that she should know, to convince her to seek out Master Legolas."  
  
Though no one had ever told Aella about Eomer's feelings for Cyrene, she had seen them together often enough to know. The longing she saw in the King's eyes when he had seen the Amazon with the elf had been enough. Aella did not hesitate to voice her doubts.  
  
"Will you, Eomer, aid us in this matter even if it means that Cyrene and Legolas could be bound together for the rest of their lives?" asked the redhead.  
  
Eomer endured the blue eyes searching his face. He did not flinch. "My first concern is Cyrene's happiness, and if it lies with the elf, I shall help her to find it."  
  
Eowyn laid her hand upon Aella's arm. "He is my brother and Cyrene's friend. Eomer is also a noble and true warrior, Aella. Do not distrust him."  
  
"Eowyn, Eomer is my liege through Cyrene. I have fought alongside him in battle and know his bravery and noble heart. But I also know his feelings for my friend," Aella sighed. "Eomer, we have learned that Cyrene left Legolas because she thinks that he will lose his immortality if he binds himself to a mortal. I also know now something that Cyrene does not know: elves cannot lose their eternal life even if they are bound to mortals. However, they may die of grief. Master Legolas is, as we speak, dying of a broken heart, because of Cyrene. And she is not aware of this. She has to know, and we are running against time."  
  
Eomer's eyes widened at the news. For all the jealousy he felt towards the elf, he did not want him to die. And neither did he want Cyrene to carry the guilt of her love's demise. A sharp pang of his own guilt struck him as he remembered that he was the one who told the Amazon that elves lose their immortality when bound to humans. "It was I. I told Cyrene that Legolas would forfeit his immortal life if he bound himself to her. I thought it was true, I had no intention ."  
  
Heavy silence hung upon the three persons in the House of Healing. Eowyn was looking at her brother in shock for a moment, and then took her hand in his. She saw the despair and regret in his face, and her heart hurt for Eomer.  
  
Aella looked from one to another and sighed again, louder this time. "Cyrene has to know of this at once, Eomer. Will you ride after the Amazons and speak to her? She should speak to Legolas before."  
  
"Yes, I shall leave before the sun sets. I will convince her, and I shall even ride with her to find Legolas and Gimli. Do you know where they went, Mistress Aella?"  
  
"Gimli told me that they would be riding towards the coast, and he spoke of a last campsite where Legolas, Cyrene, and he had been to before encountering the Amazons' camp. That is all I know. I should ride with you, Eomer." said Aella, trying again to put her gear on. This time she failed to hide the discomfort when she moved her leg.  
  
Eowyn pushed her back on the pallet gently. "Don't be foolish, Aella. You are in no shape to take a forced ride anywhere. You would only slow down Eomer. And he will find Cyrene and bring her to Legolas," the White Lady said sternly, speaking to the Amazon but looking at her brother.  
  
"I will leave at once. And I vow to do everything in my might to bring them together," Eomer vowed and turned on his heel leaving the room.  
  
Both women watched him leave, knowing he would keep his oath.  
  
***  
  
Cyrene and the Amazons rode as far as they could before nightfall. It was understandable to her that once the strain of warfare had worn off, the co- existence of Amazons and people of Middle Earth would not be easy, if possible.  
  
There were too many differences in their way of thinking and behaving, their codes of honor, and their customs.  
  
It was then that she realized that beyond her promises to Aella and her resolution not to return to Artemis Island, even if her mother and sister had insisted upon her going back, she could not and would not leave Middle Earth.  
  
She would always be an Amazon and proud of her heritage, but too much of her had changed since she had left the island. By now she would be incapable of abiding by the laws and customs of her people. The past days weighed upon her as if they were years.  
  
Rohan, Eowyn, Eomer, Legolas, and Gimli, had touched her soul and changed her in too many ways.  
  
Cyrene ordered a light camping, without setting up tents to avoid any delay in the morning.  
  
After seeing to her horse, she gathered her gear and saddle and sought a place to settle for the night, away from the other warriors. Her fellow Amazons would ever give her respect and obedience, but she knew that they did not understand her relationship with Legolas. No Amazon would yield and submit publicly to any male. Not even an admired fellow warrior like the elf or even a king among men.  
  
Cyrene did not regret having admitted her bond to Legolas for everyone to see. Though her feelings and their intensity still confused her, Cyrene was aware that every minute she had spent with Legolas had been precious. Especially at this time, when she was sure she had chased him away for good.  
  
Legolas could not bear to see her and wouldn't even speak to Cyrene. She had seen it with her own eyes in Minas Tirith. The thought of being the subject of his contempt or hatred hurt her, in a way she had never felt before. How had she become so very dependent on him?  
  
Legolas had shown her about the mating of male and female, he had given her trust and friendship in her darkest moments. They had forged a bond beyond their shared physical pleasure and when the decisive moment had come, Cyrene had not trusted him with her doubts and fears. Instead, she had hurt him and driven him away.  
  
Sleep eluded the Amazon. She looked up into the starry night and wondered if she should seek Legolas out once she had finished her mission in Dol Amroth. In spite of her pride and confusion, Cyrene decided that she had to speak to him and let Legolas decide if they had a future together or not.  
  
**  
  
At sunset of the next day, as the Amazons made camp for the night, Eomer and Dumetar arrived. They had ridden with four horses, so as to not overexert their mounts; still the horses were shaking with exhaustion and covered with foam.  
  
Cyrene ran up to Eomer, worry etched in her features.  
  
"Eomer, my brother! Is all well In the White City? How is Eowyn? Aella? Why have you followed us? I would have returned to Minas Tirith in the next days." she said.  
  
Eomer thanked an Amazon who had given him a flask with water and turned to Cyrene. He was tired and his clothes were damp with sweat beneath his armor. But he mustered a smile for her. "I need a word with you, Cyrene. It is a pressing matter that could not be held out until your return."  
  
She smiled back, still intrigued about Eomer's appearance, and greeted Dumetar.  
  
Cyrene and Eomer walked away from the camp, until they were out of hearing distance and Eomer spoke.  
  
"Cyrene, you have to return at once. You have to ride after Legolas and Gimli," he said.  
  
"Eomer, you must be jesting. You have not ridden a horse to exhaustion to tell me this, have you?" asked Cyrene in disbelief.  
  
"In fact, my sister, I have. You have no time. It is a matter of life and death that you speak to Legolas without further delay," explained Eomer, and his eyes searched in the woman's face for any sign that her feelings towards the elf might have changed.  
  
The Amazon looked back at Eomer, this time in confusion. "My brother, it was you who told me about the hopelessness of my relationship with him. Why is it now important that I speak to him? Why can it not wait until my return? I wanted to seek him out myself.but I do not understand the urgency."  
  
The King of Rohan looked at the woman in front of him and saw the woman he loved and trusted, the woman he would give his life for, and he knew that he would also give up his love and heart for her, only to see again in her eyes the light he had seen after Pelennor Fields. The light of a woman in love, whose love was returned and made her stronger and complete.  
  
The look that he saw now, reflecting the last rays of the dying sun, were those of a lost and hurt girl, despite all the warrior trappings.  
  
He caressed her cheek before telling her, "Cyrene, I have been told that elves do not lose their immortality if bound to humans. In fact, it is rather the humans who have to decide if they are able to endure seeing undying beauty and youth by their side while they wither and age themselves. Have you thought about this?"  
  
"Yes, Eomer. And for a single year of Legolas's love I would go to Hades and back. I could only not endure the thought of binding myself to him and so being the cause of his death. But there is something else, some other thing I must know?" she asked, searching for answers in Eomer's familiar face. "Yes, my beloved sister. You must seek Master Legolas without any further delay, because though elves do not die of age, they can die of grief." Eomer saw the doubt in Cyrene's features. "Legolas' love for you is true. He is fading as we speak. And you have to go to him before it is too late." 


	33. Chapter Thirty Three: DECISSIONS

Chapter XXXIII: Decissions  
  
It took Gimli and Legolas another day to reach the the Dor-en-Ernil mountains and the site over overlooking the Gilrain river delta where they had camped almost a fortnight before.  
  
Legolas had shed some of the resignation that had marked his demeanor since Morannon, strength returning to his every move and action. Gimli could almost see how t the elf was struggling with a millennia of his people's ancient knowledge and beliefs , searching for a way out, not wanting to give in to grief.  
  
As they rode closer to the ocean, Legolas felt the call. It was strong, persuasive, luring him to endless peace and spiritual solace.The longing for Valinor was forceful, and made him think of just following the summons of the sea and forgetting everything in Middle Earth.  
  
This time, it was Gimli who set a small fire and prepared a small camp. The elf stood on the highest vantage point, his eyes lost in the distance, letting the call of Valinor and his feelings for Cyrene and his beloved ones lead a relentless battle over him.  
  
The dwarf waited for his friend to return until the deepest darkness surrounded them. Carefully, Gimli walked to where Legolas stood, like a marble statue, not having moved for hours. The dwarf did not speak to his friend, but seeing that the elf was well, silently turned on his heel and returned to the fire.  
  
Legolas was trying to find answers he already knew. But he had to realize this on his own.  
  
***  
  
Cyrene knew that she was risking her horse's and her own safety riding in the dark. But she refused to stop. She could not.  
  
Since Éomer had told her that Legolas was fading from grief and heartbreak, she did not care for anything else but reaching and speak to him. She could not let the elf die, and if he did, she preferred to die at his side rather than continuing to live with the certainty that she could have saved him.  
  
Éomer and Dumetar were accompanying the Amazons to Dol Amroth. They had helplessly watched Cyrene choose two mounts with light gear and leave in the deepest darkness of a moonless night, retracing the miles she had ridden by daylight.  
  
Cyrene had parted from the Amazons and her Rohirrim friends the night before, and during the daylight hours she had been able to orientate herself riding towards the Dor-en-Ernil mountains. Now, darkness had slowed down her pace, but she kept on riding, changing horses every few hours. Hopelessly, she followed the dark silhouette of the mountains and the smell and sound of the ocean. The Goddess help her, she had to find Legolas.  
  
**  
  
Legolas couldn't remember a night as long as this. Not only because of the deep darkness due to the new moon but because he felt lost and alone in the shadow of his own fears and feelings.  
  
The ocean, infinite and soothing, the waves singing the ageless song of peace and forgetfulness, promised him succor and happiness. Immortal heaven, for the rest of his life. Its sound and scent had already given him comfort and eased the grief and the pain. It would be so easy to just give in to the call, follow his kin, fulfill his destiny.  
  
In the exact moment he let the balmy effect of the sea enter his soul, his heart pulled him back from its solace, reminding him of those he cherished the most. .  
  
Legolas could not leave Middle Earth behind. Too much, too dear and he wanted to enjoy it as long as it was given to him to experience: he had promised Gimli to show him Fangorn Forest and to go with him to the Glittering Caves; he wanted to see Aragorn bring Gondor to its former glory, he wished to see the small Hobbits finding happiness in their beloved Shire.  
  
And no matter the cost or the effort, he would woo Cyrene, the owner of his love, and show her that they were meant to be together. Legolas knew that both would have to pay a dear price, for their match could not last forever, as she was mortal and he was immortal. But he also believed that their love could vanquish the odds against them, if they loved enough.  
  
A sad smile settled upon his lips. Was it a wise choice? Trade eternal bliss and happiness for earthly discomfort . alongside friendship and love?  
  
Probably it was not any wiser than choosing a cup of water over his father's finest wine. But it was his choice and a risk he wanted to take.  
  
The sun was tinting the horizon, lighting up the sea as Legolas acknowledged his chosen path. He turned to walk back to the camp and tell Gimli his decision, but he could not move.  
  
Twenty paces from him, waiting, stood Cyrene.  
  
As the sunlight reached her, the metal of her armor gleamed. She was clad in her warrior attire, including her helmet, fully armed.  
  
She seemed to be waiting for him to notice her, for then she moved.  
  
Not saying a word, she took her labryss and her sword from her waist and set them on the ground. Slowly, she removed her helmet, her armor and weapons, piece by piece, until she stood clad only in her tunic and boots.  
  
Then she walked up to where Legolas stood.  
  
"I come to you as a simple mortal woman, to offer you my life and my love, Legolas. I beg your forgiveness, for not having been true to your friendship, trust and love," said Cyrene softly but firmly. Then she sighed and set one knee on the ground before the elf.  
  
Legolas quickly took the Amazon by the shoulders and pulled her up. "By the Valar, Cyrene, do not kneel!". For a moment he longed to embrace and kiss her, but there was still much to be said. "We are equals, brothers in arms, friends and lovers. You shall never bow to me, Amazon!"  
  
Elven fingers stroked lightly over the soft, exposed skin of her upper arms. He had missed the feel of it, for ages it seemed to him. "I cherish you as my peer, my friend and ally, a respected warrior and an outstanding person."  
  
Cyrene's eyes showed confusion. "Is that not what you wish from me? Is not submission what a male wants from a female? I . am willing to submit to you, and accept whatever this implies, Legolas. I would do anything to stay by your side, and I will never allow you to be heartbroken as long as I draw breath."  
  
"You came to me because you thought I was dying of grief?" asked Legolas. He did not want her pity.  
  
"Yes" she said. "But also because I can not bear to live apart from you, Legolas. If you die, I shall die as well. If you live, I shall live, by your side if you allow it."  
  
His blue eyes searched in her face and found sincerity and fear. She feared his rejection. "I would have come to seek you, Cyrene, to the end of the world if need be. I would never abide your compliance or your allegiance to me. But I do not want or need your pity either. "  
  
"I do not offer pity, Legolas. I offer you all I have. Myself and my love," she whispered.  
  
"Your love?" he asked disbelievingly.  
  
The Amazon straightened her stance. Lifting her head proudly she said: "I love you, Legolas of Mirkwood. And I shall love you for as long as the Goddess gives me life."  
  
The elf felt his heart soar with happiness at her confession. "Then, we shall be together, beloved. As equals, as mates: the elf and the fierce and independent Amazon I fell in love with. Our bond shall be one of love and respect."  
  
He saw understanding in her eyes, as she realized that he accepted her as she was, without submission, without sacrifice. But he also had to be sure that the Amazon understood that she had to accept him and his heritage of elven eternal life as well. "Cyrene, are you willing to share your life with me, even if I will not age or wither but vow to stay with you all of your lifetime?"  
  
"Yes, Legolas. For you make every day of my life worth living," Cyrene answered.  
  
"Then may the Gods grant us a long time together, amaelamin, for I love you enough for many human lifetimes and more.  
  
**  
  
Aella sat in the gardens of the Houses of Healing, restless and unhappy, since they had no word yet either from Éomer nor from Cyrene or Gimli. She felt useless, for not being able to intervene in the events. Waiting drove her insane.  
  
But the small Amazon had found a good companion in the Lady of Rohan.  
  
Éowyn organized her time so that she was able to visit Aella as often as possible through the day. Not knowing if Éomer had reached Cyrene and if the Amazon had ridden after Legolas and Gimli and what the outcome of the encounter had been was filling both women with worry.  
  
Aella's leg was improving, enough for her to be able to leave her bed and sit in the open. But as she spent hours brooding over the uncertainty and all possible scenarios of what could have happened with Cyrene, loneliness and depression took over her mind.  
  
The Amazon felt awkward and uneasy amongst the people of Gondor. And she missed Gimli terribly. Which brought even more confusion and dread to her mind. What would become of them now?  
  
They had fought alongside one another, and shared moments of pleasure and unbelievable tenderness. She had found a mate and a lover in the dwarf.. And she was aware that her feelings for him were deep and powerful, enough to frighten Aella. Now that the war was over, as well as Gimli's sworn journey to destroy the ring, what would happen?  
  
She dared not to think about a future with him, and her own future was uncertain as yet. Aella had pledged herself to Cyrene, to stay with her in Middle Earth and be her companion for good. Gimli would most probably return to Erebor, to his people and family and resume his life. They were from different races, different cultures and backgrounds. And they had never discussed any future at all.  
  
For the first time in her life, for a brief moment, Aella wished she wasn't an Amazon. That she knew how a woman or a female dwarf would behave and handle the situation. But as suddenly as the thought crossed her mind, it was also over. Aella was a woman of action, and regret did not suit her. Still, she lifted her eyes to the evening sky and prayed to the moon, Artemis' symbol on Earth, to find a way to gain her heart back and move on with life.  
  
***  
  
Faramir was patiently learning to know and understand the way his betrothed thought and reacted. Having met her not so long ago, he already knew that his bride's determined and independent manner was as much a part of her as her bravery or gentle caring for those for whom she felt responsible.  
  
In the past days, since Elessar's coronation, Minas Tirith had been boiling with activity and visitors. The King and the Steward were engaged in endless meetings and reception of both Gondorian citizens and envoys of neighboring lands to salute the new ruler of the White City. In fact, neither Aragorn nor Faramir had managed to set a foot outside the city in the last three days. The Steward of Gondor felt trapped in the confines of the city. If it hadn't been for Eowyn's voluntary take over of the handling of the Hall and putting order upon the service personal, Faramir did not dare to imagine how they would have managed the chaos of people and organization.  
  
Eowyn ran diligently through the Citadel, looking after the details of board and food for guests and inhabitants, easing quarrels and offering advice to the women in charge of the kitchen, upkeep and cleaning. This tireless, helpful side of Eowyn was the one Faramir had not expected to encounter, but then he still did not know much about his wife to be. And learning of her ways and character, little by little, observing her from afar, Faramir felt that the choice of his heart had been right: this was the woman he had always longed for.  
  
***  
  
A warrior to the bone, Aella's sleep was light. So, as the subtle sound of footsteps reached her ears, she carefully slid her hand beneath her pillow and her fingers closed over the hilt of a dagger. Though she was an ally and a guest in Minas Tirith, as long as Cyrene hadn't returned she was the only Amazon in the city.  
  
When the careful sounds were near enough, Aella spun in her bed, tackling the source of the noise to the ground, and instinctively looking for the intruder's throat.  
  
The stranger rolled swiftly over her, managing to pin the Amazon under his weight and grabbing her arms. Aella raised her knee swiftly to hit the attacker's groin, but again, she had forgotten that her dislocated leg allowed her only some movements, and a soft whimper escaped her lips at the pain and the impossibility of fulfilling the maneuver and dislodging the intruder.  
  
"Easy, you are hurting yourself, silly woman!" she heard the male say and finally, she recognized him, wrestling now to free her arms to hold him close.  
  
"If this is the welcome I can expect from you every time we are apart, I shall not let you out of my sight, Amazon," said Gimli, letting her arms go, once he was sure she had recognized him. But he choked on the fierce hug the small woman gave him once she was able to.  
  
"I am very glad you returned, Gimli. I . missed you. Did Eomer find Cyrene? Did she talk to Legolas? Are both well?" asked Aella in one breath.  
  
The dwarf rolled onto his back, to relieve Aella from his weight, pulling the little Amazon with him, so that her head rested on his broad chest.  
  
"Eomer reached Cyrene and she rode after us. But I think that Legolas had reflected on the matter as well and made his decision," he explained. Then he went silent, even if he knew that the woman was waiting for more.  
  
"By the Goddess, you irritating male! What happened? Tell it all, I beg you!" requested Aella.  
  
"Aaaaaaaah, feisty one. I missed you as well. You and your temper and your impossible demeanor, and your . well, I missed you very much, beloved. And what do you do when I return? You, of all people, attack me and try to mangle my body and ." he started rambling, but was interrupted as Aella sat up and softly set a finger on his lips.  
  
"What did you say? Say it again, I beg you ." she told him, softly.  
  
Gimli was surprised at her behavior. What had he said or done to upset her? "I told you that I missed your temper and your impossible demeanor and ."  
  
"You called me "beloved". And you called me that before too. What does that mean to you?" she urged him.  
  
He had been thinking about their relationship as well. About the fact that they hadn't exchanged any promises or words of love, they hadn't ever talked about a possible future and if they were going to be together after the war. Nothing at all.  
  
"Beloved is an endearment exchanged between lovers and friends, Aella." He explained hesitantly. The light of joy in her eyes seemed to dim a little after his words, and she laid down, settling her head over his heart again.  
  
"I understand, Gimli. Now tell me about Cyrene and Legolas," she said.  
  
The dwarf sighed loudly. "What do you wish to hear, Amazon? We are lovers and friends. What else do you wish?"  
  
She forced herself not to turn away from him. He was right, there was nothing bonding them beyond their tender lovemaking and a loyal friendship in which both knew they could entrust their lives upon the other. What did she want to hear?  
  
"I don't know what I wish . forgive me," she replied and stubbornly kept her cheek on his chest, trying to focus on the steady heartbeat beneath the leather jerkin. It gave her the reassurance that he was with her, for as long as it lasted.  
  
The serene, resigned tone of the woman's voice hurt Gimli. He was not ready to say or ask for promises yet. He wanted to know, but he dared not ask. Dwarves did not speak about feelings, they showed them with actions.  
  
Then something that Legolas had said to him in the Amazon camp came back to his mind. And he dared to tell Aella.  
  
"Legolas told me once, that even if one might loose in the end, one should let the heart guide one's actions. That it was better than spending the rest of ones life wondering what it could have been like. My heart tells me that I want to keep you close as long as you would stay with me. What does your heart say, Aella?" Gimli asked and held his breath, waiting for her response.  
  
"I feel that my heart lies with you, Gimli of the Dwarves. And I would like very much to stay with you and not have to wonder ," she said, smiling up at him.  
  
And their eyes exchanged silent promises, that both knew they would keep.  
  
***  
  
Years later  
  
Legolas Greenleaf walked out of the house towards the cliff overlooking the Bay of Belfalas.  
  
South Gondor was beautiful and wild, and in this place, and this place alone, the elf felt close to Valinor but still a part of Middle Earth and those he loved  
  
There was, strangely enough, a tree that grew on the rocky ground of the cliff's edge, and from that vantage point, the sight overlooking land and ocean was breathtaking.  
  
But Legolas' eyes did not linger on the beautiful landscape before him, bathed as it was in the golden and red lights of the sunset, but sought someone that should be there, by the tree. And he was not disappointed.  
  
The days he had been away had appeared like years to him, even decades. Now he had returned home.  
  
He threaded his way lightly on the mossy ground. But she heard him nevertheless. The elf always thought that beyond the abilities of a hunter and having a keen sense of hearing and sight, she could sense his approach. Smiling at the woman sitting on the ground, he knelt by her side, taking her in his arms and settling behind her, pulling her closer and fitting her back against his chest.  
  
"I was not expecting your return, Legolas. Not for another week at least. Is all well in Ithilien?" asked Cyrene, sighing in pleasure as she felt her beloved's arms close around her.  
  
"All is well in Minas Ithil. Faramir has agreed to give me permission and land for the elves that are not ready to cross but cannot remain in their cities anymore. And Eowyn sends her best greetings and begs for a visit as soon as possible. I told her that it could take many a week until you may come see her," he explained.  
  
Cyrene smiled. "It may, indeed. But it also may be that it is sooner than expected. I do not believe that it will require very much longer."  
  
"Is that so, amaelamin? Are you well?" asked Legolas anxiously.  
  
"Indeed I am, beloved. Only impatient. Give me your hands," Cyrene said, and settled his long-fingered, nimble hands on her round, pregnant belly. As if by command, the babe began moving, and Legolas' sensitive fingers followed the movements and kicks of his unborn child.  
  
The Amazon observed with delight the emotions crossing Legolas' face. As soon as he had found out about her pregnancy, he had been observing his wife with disbelief and amazement. The sole idea of having sired life, a new being created as a result of their love was still a wonder he did not dare to believe.  
  
Cyrene closed her eyes and reveled in the moment, opening her eyes quickly again, unwilling to miss the spectacle unfurling before them. The sun had almost set, darkness was already closing in.  
  
No matter how long the Goddess gave them together, Cyrene would never regret her choice. For as long as she could share her life with Legolas, she would revel in the sunshine of his love. 


	34. EPILOGUE

Epilogue  
  
Elves did not sleep, but Legolas Greenleaf had gotten used to joining his mate during night rest, just to share the quiet hours of darkness and indulge in the serene pleasure of holding her. Tonight was no exception.  
  
After so many years together, their bond had grown stronger, deeper, and sometimes, for all his elven wisdom, Legolas couldn't tell if Cyrene could actually read his mind or he read hers. Sometime in the past decades, they had both assimilated customs and manners from each other, to the point that he often wondered if hadn't become human or the Amazon hadn't turned into an elf.  
  
But as generous as the Valar and the Goddess had been with them, both knew that they were running against time, and both enjoyed every moment together to its fullest extent.  
  
Nature had been kind to Cyrene. Close to having lived fifty winters, her black hair only showed a few strands of silver, and her face was almost untouched by age. Only her eyes showed the experience gathered in the past years, the joys and sorrows of a life well lived and a person well loved.  
  
Cyrene's eyes were closed, and she moved closer into her husband's embrace.  
  
Soon he would have to travel again, as well as she would have too, and this would be their first separate journey for decades. Probably the first since the birth of their children, the twins, who were now grown and had lives of their own.  
  
Kyme, named after the ocean waves, had embraced her Amazon heritage and divided her time between Artemis Island and Ranyar Cirban, the dwellings built by Legolas and the Dunedain to shelter the few elves that remained in Middle Earth and were slowly leaving for Tol Eresea . It lay less than a day ride away from her parents house, in Ithilien, and the young woman visited her mother as often as she was able to.  
  
Cíndar, her twin brother, had been King Elessar's squire and spent many years in Minas Tirith. But he was now a respected leader in Ranyar Cirban; supporting Legolas as a helper and protector of the Fair Folk as they found their way to Valinor.  
  
Both of Legolas's children had found their own path in life.  
  
Legolas's thoughts turned again to the woman in his arms. He reveled in the warmth and the sensation of holding his wife. He buried his nose into her hair, seeking the point in her throat where skin was the softest, her heartbeat palpable. He drank in her scent, wishing he could dwell in the moment forever.  
  
The slight change in her breathing told the elf that Cyrene was awakening. But she did not move, or so he thought until he felt her hands moving from his waist, where they had rested during sleep, up his chest, caressing his skin under his tunic.  
  
Her fingers trailed the smooth surface lightly, and he could feel exactly the slightly rough texture of his wife's fingertips as they knowingly sought out the most sensitive and pleasurable spots of his body. Moaning softly, he pulled Cyrene's body against his and kissed her, letting then his own hands wander the well-known paths of her curves and hollows.  
  
Even though the Amazon had never known any other lover in her life, she could not imagine that anyone but Legolas could touch her, fill her, make her senses fly the way he did.  
  
Every time they made love, it was almost like the first time, except that both played upon the other's body with the ease of experienced musicians making their favorite instrument sing, until they joined in their peak, united beyond bodies and time.  
  
Cyrene's favorite moments in the aftermath of their lovemaking were as their hearts beat as one and their skin was too sensitive to touch while they felt the physical pleasure ebb. They were together, frozen in time, in bliss and calm.  
  
"I will miss you, amaelamin" whispered Legolas, and brushed a tender kiss upon his wife's brow. Even in this tender moment, he thought of the quest that would take her from him for some days.  
  
"So will I, beloved. But time will pass quickly; it always does. Too fast, sometimes," she said, and looked up into her love's eyes. "The goddess has been generous, Legolas, but I am aging. Do you ever regret your choice? I sense your longing for Valinor is strong as ever. Most of your kin have sailed, and here you are, bound to an old woman."  
  
The elf sighed and drew Cyrene even closer. "I have no regrets, for the years I share with you are worth my whole life. The call of the sea I cannot deny, Cyrene, but I know that if I had to choose between the Lonely Isle and you, I would make the same choice over and over again. And as we chose life together, we both knew what it meant. I do not care about your age or your exterior. We are bound beyond that."  
  
Cyrene was not satisfied. Every time they discussed the matter, she felt again that she was chaining him down to Middle Earth, to her very existence. And she did not want to be holding the elf back, not ever. Though the thought of his great love for her made the Amazon feel beyond human and able to face any obstacle in their way, her love for him made her crave his sole happiness, no matter what it meant for her.  
  
"Legolas," she whispered.  
  
"Yes, amaelamin?" he replied.  
  
"Promise me, that when I have passed you will leave for Valinor and live a long and happy life. Promise me that you will not grieve," Cyrene said, her golden eyes searching for acquiescence in his blue ones.  
  
Legolas was surprised. They had never before talked about what would happen once she was dead. And he didn't ever want to speak of it, as if by simply ignoring the fact that she was mortal and bound to die some day, they had cast a spell to keep them eternally together.  
  
"Cyrene, I do not wish to discuss this," he said and turned his face away from her. But her hands rose to frame his cheeks and drew his eyes back to hers.  
  
"Legolas, if it I were the immortal one, wouldn't you wish the same for me? If you knew that the natural end of your own life would result in the painful fading of the one you love most, wouldn't you ask the same from me?" Cyrene explained.  
  
The elf closed his eyes. He could not make that promise.  
  
Once, decades ago, as she had deserted him he had grieved deeply. Now, a lifetime later and feeling as Cyrene was but another half of his own self, he was sure that he would not survive her passing. But Legolas also knew his wife well; Cyrene would not rest until she had the promise.  
  
"Cyrene, I cannot tell what will happen years from now, and what the Valar have set in my path," he told her earnestly. "What would you do if I was taken from you?"  
  
The Amazon settled her head back on his chest, holding Legolas's body close, delaying her reply. It was odd. While she wished that he, the wonderful creature who was a gift to the world, would be able to live eternally after she was gone, deep inside she knew for certain that if he died, she would follow him in a heartbeat.  
  
Earlier in her life, before meeting Legolas and falling in love with him, the mere idea would have been ridiculous to her. But now she could barely imagine not having him in her life.  
  
"I would ... pray to the Goddess to take me as well," she answered then.  
  
The elf did not reply, but held her even tighter. They would not speak about it again until their time had come.  
  
***  
  
The next morning, Legolas and Cyrene prepared their journey.  
  
Cyrene was to travel to Artemis Island for the funeral of the former Queen Myrine. In the past years, Cyrene and Aella had returned to the island a few times, and Cyrene's relationship with Alkaia had developed into friendship. Her daughter Kyme had brought the news of Myrine's death two days before, announcing there were great funeral ceremonies to be held. Aella was to arrive anytime during the day accompany them to the island. Legolas was expected in Gondor, to visit King Elessar and his family. Cyrene and Aella would meet their husbands in Minas Tirith in two weeks time, after Myrine's funeral.  
  
When all was ready for his departure, Legolas gave Cyrene a passionate kiss as she accompanied him to his mount.  
  
"I wish I could make this journey with you, amaelamin. Queen Myrine deserved my deepest respect and affection. She was a wise and generous ruler of the Amazons. Her passing is a great loss. Do you wish for me to ride with you to the coast?" he said.  
  
Cyrene caressed his cheek. "Aella, Kyme, and I will be riding soon, beloved. You know that though you are a legend among my people, men are still not allowed to enter the island. I will join you in the White City as soon as I can. Give my greetings to Aragorn and Arwen, and also Eowyn and Faramir."  
  
"The White Lady will be looking forward to see you. Though not as much as I will be," he whispered into her ear, as they held each other tightly once again.  
  
´May the Goddess guide your path' Cyrene thought as Legolas swung himself on his horse and turned to leave.  
  
The Amazon stood looking after her husband until he disappeared completely from her sight.  
  
***  
  
"You are not much of a good company this time, my friend," said Gimli to the elf. Legolas was standing by the main hall's window, his eyes lost on the landscape.  
  
The remaining members of the Fellowship had gathered once again in Gondor. In the past 30 years the friendships had grown closer, even though they had all taken different paths. Never had a year passed without the friends contacting one another or visiting, in spite of their many obligations and growing families. Faramir and Eowyn, as well as Eomer and Lothiriel, used to join the gatherings for the pleasure of seeing their friends, sharing memories, and exchanging news.  
  
Legolas enjoyed the meetings and knew that Cyrene enjoyed them as well. As much as the now almost legendary War of the Ring had cost Middle Earth, it had forged strong lifetime long bonds.  
  
"I am restless, counting the days until they return from the island. You do not miss Aella?" said Legolas to his friend.  
  
"Hmmmm, to be entirely truthful, that woman drives me to lunacy. She is constantly looking for new duties and chores and changes and responsibilities. And yes, I miss her every hour we are apart," Gimli sighed. "After these many years, she surprises me all the time anew. And I cannot imagine how life was before her. There was life before them, was there not, my friend?"  
  
The blonde elf smiled broadly at Gimli's comment. Aella had become a whirlwind, ever looking for new ways to improve the Glittering Caves and keep Gimli and the dwarves on their toes. Even the children she bore had not slowed her down in her energetic rhythm of life.  
  
"In the many centuries of my life, I haven't met another woman like Aella. And though I am certain that we both lived for long before the Amazons entered our lives, only the last decades count for me as living, my friend."  
  
"I agree with you, Legolas. Still, Aella and Cyrene should be returning from the island in the next days. It is not the first time they have traveled there. What troubles you?" said the dwarf.  
  
Legolas eyes settled on his friend. Even though Gimli was not immortal, he had dwarven longevity, which meant that, most probably, he was also aware that he would outlive his human wife. The elf wondered if Gimli had ever thought about it.  
  
"Are you aware that Aella will most likely pass away before your time comes, Gimli?" he asked. The shadow that crossed his friend's face told him that, indeed, the dwarf had spent some thoughts on the matter.  
  
Gimli swallowed before answering, "It was not my main concern when I decided to make her my life-mate, Legolas. But yes, in the still of the night or the early darkness before dawn, as we lay together, I think about it and pray to her Gods to give her a long life and thank Aule for every day I may spend with her at my side. Why is the thought troubling you now, my friend?"  
  
"Cyrene spoke about my existence after her passing, just before I left for this journey. We had never discussed it before. I must confess I am terrified. There is no life for me without her. You know it. And still, she wanted me to promise her that I would sail to Valinor once she passed away," explained Legolas, speaking softly, as if he feared to conjure the events by talking about them. He knew that if anybody would understand his feelings, it was most likely Gimli.  
  
"It certainly sounds like something Cyrene would request from you. She knows you too well. I say we should forget the conversation and gather joyful thoughts to keep ill tidings at bay. Come, my friend! I hear that Elessar has indeed brought out his finest elvish wine from the cellars to celebrate the gathering. Let us drink the time away until those infamous women arrive here," said the Lord of the Glittering Caves, patting his companion's arm and nudging him away from the window and his dark thoughts.  
  
***  
  
Kyme was the very likeness of her father. Besides the pointed ears, the lean frame, and the golden, straight hair, her azure eyes were as soft and full of life as Legolas's own.  
  
She stood proud and tall at her mother's side during the long and solemn ceremonies that accompanied Myrine's funeral. Feeling as much an Amazon as ever, she questioned again Cyrene's choice of leaving the Amazons and settling for the world of men.  
  
Looking from her mother's slender figure to her aunt Alkaia's, she could see that though both were still identical, there were now many features that distinguised them from another, even besides the long scar on Alkaia's cheek.  
  
Alkaia was regal, both in poise and in attire. Her command was ever- present, be it in her posture, her voice, or her demeanor. She had the untamed beauty of the sea, merciless, powerful.  
  
Cyrene had long ago exchanged her Amazon warrior garb for the clothing of the elves. But now, at her mother's funeral, she stood at the side of the funeral pyre wearing the outfit of an Amazon. She owed it to Myrine. Unlike her twin, Cyrene did not radiate command or royalty. She personified serenity, wisdom and peace.  
  
Kyme always thought that her mother had given up too much in exchange for being her father's mate. How could any woman born to such a tradition long to be something other than an Amazon? Kyme observed the former Amazon princess bow before the pyre and then get down on one knee before Alkaia, feeling again the deep love that bound her to Cyrene, but the young woman still could not understand her mother's choices.  
  
When the ceremony was over, Cyrene presented her respects to the Queen while Kyme assisted Aella preparing their return to the mainland.  
  
"Aella, you were with my mother when she decided not to return to Artemis Island and to stay with my father instead. Why did she do it? Father is and elf, immortal ... the possibilities for them to have a good life together were against all odds. Why did she leave her freedom and the honor of a warrior's life behind? How could she?" asked Kyme.  
  
The small redhead sighed and pondered her answer for a moment. She turned to the younger woman and was again amazed to see Legolas's features reflected in the lovely face.  
  
"When your mother returned as envoy of Rohan to the Amazons to lead us into battle, I was also disbelieving of her behavior. I knew Cyrene from infancy, Kyme, and I could not understand her fascination with the elf. Until I saw them together. You would have had to see them to believe it. When you look at them, you see your parents, child, but you don't recognize the way that they drink each other's presence, as if it were water and both were dying of thirst. For them the sun rises and sets in the other. They gather strength from each other; find solace and peace in each other. I didn't think it was possible at first, and later I found a mate of my own." Aella paused. "Cyrene did not ever see her bonding to Legolas as a prison or as relinquishing anything of her life, Kyme. It was a very hard choice for both of them. And I doubt they regret it."  
  
The young woman looked thoughtfully at her mother's best friend.  
  
"For me it was always natural to see them bonded, belonging together. But still, I did not understand Mother leaving her people and way of life behind. Why did she leave the island to begin with?" she asked.  
  
Cyrene had never told her children about her sister and the real reasons she had left the Amazons, or the duel they held after that. Alkaia was now Queen, and Cyrene wished to give Kyme the possibility of making her own choices. Aella did not agree with this decision. In her eyes, her friend would always be the one who had made the bravest of sacrifices, and so was rewarded by the Goddess with Legolas's love.  
  
"There were strong reasons at that time, child. She left without even telling me," replied Aella evasively.  
  
Cyrene walked up to them, cutting short the uncomfortable questions. "There have been sightings of Corsairs along the coast. Alkaia wants to send an escort with us and urges us to sail to Dol Amroth. But I told her that we would not need outriders."  
  
"Will we set sail towards Dol Amroth then?" asked Aella anxiously.  
  
"No, it would cost us almost two more days' ride to MinasTirith," replied Cyrene.  
  
"And I suppose that we cannot survive another couple of days without the males?" commented Aella with a mischievous grin.  
  
"Life is too short, my friend. Every minute is precious," was Cyrene's reply, but she flushed deeply.  
  
Kyme did not comment, again surprised at the intensity of her parent's dependence. Shaking her head, she finished arranging her mount's tack and led all three horses towards the ship awaiting them.  
  
***  
  
"Cíndar, I almost believe that your sister is even a better shot than yourself," said Legolas to his son, teasing the young man about having bested him in archery.  
  
Even if Cíndar looked like his father and twin sister, the roguish smile he flashed his father was a perfect copy of Cyrene's. "That is, Father, because she has no other chores than practicing day and night. I, on the other hand, have a busy life. And, if I recall correctly, mother is a superb archer, almost your match , which means that the women of the family may be better archers."  
  
Legolas laughed out loud. Seeing his grown son, Legolas could only be amazed that he had sired this man and his sister. It seemed a miracle to the elf.  
  
"That boy is his mother's child. You have no opportunity, elf," commented Gimli from a couple of steps away.  
  
"'Tis true. And since his mother holds my heart, I will tolerate his insolence," replied Legolas, clapping his son's shoulder.  
  
"Mother and Kyme should be arriving in the morrow," commented Cíndar, glancing up at the red sun setting in the sky.  
  
"Yes, Son. I hope the hours fly until they are here," the elf said wistfully.  
  
Life had been good to them. Legolas continued to thank Elbereth for his good fortune. And he prayed for just a bit more of it. He was conscious of the fact that he was taunting fate, but he still felt the need to try.  
  
***  
  
It was past sunset when Aella, Cyrene and Kyme disembarked and bid their farewells to the Amazons still aboard the ship.  
  
Cyrene took a deep breath, after setting foot on the mainland, like she always had since she had decided to leave her past life behind. Middle Earth was her home now, and she felt it again every time she returned from the island.  
  
The evening was too dark to continue the journey, so the three women decided to make a camp for the night and continue as soon as the sun rose.  
  
Kyme took care of the horses, while Aella prepared a fire and Cyrene searched in their packs for something to eat. Cyrene and Aella were jesting with each other by the fire, but the younger Amazon did not join them. Her battle-honed senses told her that there was something strange in the air that night, and she was restless.  
  
Aella took over warming the food, as Cyrene walked to her daughter.  
  
"Are you well, Kyme? Is something amiss?" she asked the younger woman.  
  
"Mother, there is something strange in the night. Do you feel it?" Kyme replied, her eyes trying to see into the darkness surrounding them.  
  
Cyrene's demeanor changed instantly. She was again the Amazon, alert, reaching to her surroundings for any signs of danger. Though she could also not define what was amiss ... nothing she could see or hear ... and that gave her the clue.  
  
It was too silent. There were no sounds of nature. There was tension in the air.  
  
Carefully, Cyrene made a sign to her daughter to move naturally and retreat to the fire, while her hand loosened casually the leather strap securing the labryss to her waist and she let a low whistle towards her lifelong battle-companion.  
  
Aella continued by the fire, but her hands moved to pull the quivers and bows they had set down and also loosened the strap of her battle-axe.  
  
Cyrene spoke to her daughter very softly. "We are being observed. As soon as we are attacked, you run for your horse and ride towards Minas Tirith. We shall follow."  
  
Kyme hesitated and a protest died on her lips. She knew there was no point in arguing with her mother. The chance that the three of them could overcome any attacker was miniscule. If the attackers were less armed or manned they wouldn't dare to strike against them. So they had to assume they were outnumbered. Their only chance was to escape into safety.  
  
The moment Cyrene and Kyme had reached the fire, the first arrow struck the ground, close to where Aella, who had rolled away, had been standing seconds before.  
  
Aella tried to find cover behind a rock; cursing the unprotected location they had chosen for the camp.  
  
Cyrene shoved Kyme towards the mounts and rolled to the ground, also searching for cover. Once she settled behind bushes, she turned to see Aella, who tossed her abow and quiver. Cyrene turned to see Kyme pausing in her race towards the mounts and looking back. Cyrene smiled towards her daughter and made a sign to get to the horses and escape.  
  
Kyme looked towards her mother and Aella, huddled behind rocks and bushes and the horses. She was closer to the animals and maybe, if she rode away, she would be able to distract the attackers and give the two other Amazons a chance to escape as well. It was worth a try.  
  
Gripping her labryss in one hand, Kyme ducked and ran for the horses, jumping on her mount and spurring it hard into the darkness.  
  
Once her daughter had left the camp, Cyrene dared to look over the bushes she was hiding behind and recognized the silhouette of some of the aggressors in the dim firelight: corsairs, or rather the pitiful remains of what had been the Corsairs of Umbar.  
  
After Aragorn and his Army of the Forsworn had decimated their ranks with help of the warrior women, the survivors of Pelargir had gathered and survived by robbing travelers and attacking small villages. But they were the ancestral foes of the Amazons, and their vow of revenge was as fierce as ever.  
  
Muttering curses under her breath, Cyrene recognized that the only chance she and Aella's had was to outwit the enemy. As close as they were to the fire, they were easy targets. The Amazon made signs to Aella and while the smaller woman grabbed their weapons and also made a run for the horses, Cyrene threw herself towards the small campfire, trying to put it out with dust from the ground. She heard arrows whistling around her.  
  
When the fire sputtered and died, the battle was lit only by the stars. Cyrene crouched and made her way to where Aella was covering her retreat by the mounts.  
  
The sudden darkness gave the Amazons time to mount and engage escape.  
  
The horses danced until the riders were on top, and then they bolted up the coastline, towards the White City.  
  
The corsairs had regrouped again and recovered their orientation, directing another rain of arrows towards the fleeing women.  
  
Aella turned around to see the camp they had fled and saw Cyrene's mount falling a bit behind but nevertheless following her companions. For now, they just had to run until they had gained a safe distance from the enemy.  
  
After a while, as she deemed it safe, Aella slowed her mount to allow her friend to catch up.  
  
"We surely managed to escape by a hair's-width this time, didn't we?" she asked her approaching friend, but the budding smile on her lips died as she saw Cyrene's pale face and her pained expression. Cyrene hung low over her mount's neck and seemed to be holding on to the horse's mane desperately. Even in the dark, Aella saw the shaft of an arrow jutting from her best friend's back.  
  
"We tempted fate one time too many, Aella," was Cyrene's forced response.  
  
***  
  
Faramir, Gimli, Legolas, and Aragorn were discussing the news that had arrived from the raids of corsairs into the borders of Ithilien when they were interrupted by Cíndar's harsh entrance.  
  
As soon as the elf looked upon the face of his son, he knew that something had happened, and while he inwardly summoned all the calm and strength he could, he could voice only one word to Cíndar. "Where?"  
  
"The Houses of Healing, Father. They are there," the young man replied, his voice laced with sadness.  
  
Legolas never remembered afterwards how he took the stairs to the Houses of Healing with wide strides, running faster then he had ever before, wanting to see what happened and at the same time hoping that this was a nightmare. In the few minutes he needed to reach the top, all possible scenarios flashed before his eyes: horrors that could have befallen his daughter, his wife, or Aella. A silent prayer formed upon his lips.  
  
When he reached the top of the stairs, he found Eowyn and Kyme in the entrance. His daughter's face was a mask of pain and despair, and tears slipped down her cheeks. He embraced her as hard as he could and caressed her fine gold hair. "Child, are you well?" he whispered. Kyme sobbed against his tunic. A wave of relief washed over him, and hope and fear rose again, as he saw that his daughter was unharmed.  
  
"Father, I failed her! It is my fault. If I would have stayed at her side ..." she was saying.  
  
Legolas's heart skipped a beat. He did not want to know, but he needed to ask, "Where is your mother, Kyme?"  
  
But Kyme could not speak. Eowyn replied instead. "Inside, Legolas. And she is waiting for you."  
  
Inside the building, in the main room, Legolas came face-to-face with his most profound fear, the terrible image he had never been able to quell.  
  
On a bed, lay his wife. Arwen tended to a deep wound on her back.  
  
Aella stood at her friend's side. When Legolas entered the room, Aella stepped away to make place for Legolas, who fell to his knees at the bed's side.  
  
"Amaelamin ...," he whispered, setting a soft kiss upon her pale brow.  
  
Cyrene opened her eyes slowly and smiled up at him. "I knew I would see you again."  
  
Legolas forced a smile in return, in spite of the cold fist gripping his heart. He modulated his voice also, commanding a light tone despite his inner terror. "Of course, we are husband and wife and that is a bond intended to last forever, my love".  
  
Arwen stepped away from the bed, and as Legolas looked up and as his eyes met the eyes of the Queen of Gondor, he understood.  
  
Desperation invaded his mind, and a voice inside his head screamed for Aragorn, for better elven medicine, for anything to stop what seemed unstoppable. This was not her time. He had planned for at least a score of years yet. A human lifetime grown full before it must end. He was not prepared to lose her. Not now.  
  
He took a ragged breath and wrenched his eyes back to her beloved face. The extreme pallor, the shadows under her clear golden eyes, the shallow breathing were unmistakable. He knew the wound was mortal.  
  
"Legolas, I know I will not last long. I can feel it. We must speak about things and I ......" Cyrene said. She tried to rise up, but failed with a grimace of pain. Still, she did not fall back on the mattress, for her husband's arms where holding her, supporting her weight.  
  
"Cyrene, do not ......" he started to say, but she raised a weary hand and set it upon his lips.  
  
"I do not have time. I think now that I never did. And still every minute with you was worth a lifetime. You have to promise me that you will not let grief take you. When the time comes, you will sail and join your kin in Valinor. Promise me, Legolas," the Amazon said. Her hand softly caressed his cheek in in a gesture he knew so well it hurt.  
  
Legolas felt tears gathering in his eyes and his throat tightening. "Please, I cannot promise this to you. Cyrene, you are my life."  
  
Her eyes were filled with tears as well. "My love, you cannot go where I go, and in death we will never be united. If you live on, and guard the memories of us, I will be with you forever. It is my wish, I beg you."  
  
They were not alone in the room, but it was as if the rest of the world had vanished.  
  
Legolas hesitated a minute, and the words he finally came slowly and with effort:  
  
"I promise."  
  
Cyrene relaxed in her love's arms. She could now let go.  
  
"Where are Aella, Kyme and Cíndar? Where is Gimli? And is Eowyn here as well?" she asked weakly.  
  
Aella stepped forward into Cyrene's view and so did Gimli, Eowyn, and the twins.  
  
Cyrene smiled at them all. "Thank you for a good life, my friends," she said. Her eyes rested with deep love on her children. "Thank you for being mine and letting me be yours, my children."  
  
Aella's tears fell freely, but she smiled as she gripped Cyrene's forearm.  
  
"Thank you, Cyrene. You are favored of the Goddess, and I am blessed by your friendship".  
  
Cyrene's return grip was soft, and her eyes sought the window. "It is almost dawn. Take me outside, beloved?"  
  
Legolas tenderly took her in his arms and carried her to the garden. Eowyn, Kyme, and Cíndar said their farewells as they passed through the last doorway.  
  
Cyrene's hand lingered a moment on Gimli's cheek.  
  
"Take care of him, my friend," she said.  
  
Gimli kissed Cyrene's fingers, and swore, "As long as I draw breath, I shall, my friend."  
  
Legolas settled them under a tree, on a height from which they could see the whole South of Gondor, from the plains just below the walls, clear out to the river vale.Cyrene relaxed into his embrace.  
  
The elf savored every precious minute he held his wife close, wishing he could fight destiny and guard her. The thought of having to move on with life without her was too painful to even consider. But he had promised it to Cyrene.  
  
As if she could read his thoughts, she spoke softly, "Remember I told you that if you were taken from me I would follow at once?"  
  
Legolas nodded. "Yes, you did. And I wish you would not ask me to live with the loss of you ..."  
  
"I must amend what I said before. If there were reason powerful enough for me to go on living without you, I would. You have still so much ahead of you, beloved," she said. "Move on, one day at the time, and keep our love alive. Thank you, for this was the best life I could ever wish for and you gave it to me, Legolas. I love you. I always will." Cyrene gently pulled his head down towards her for a kiss.  
  
"Amin mella lle, Cyrene. My love, my wife," he breathed into her hair.  
  
They sat there entwined, sharing the sunset, until darkness surrounded them and he felt her heartbeat slowly fade into final silence.  
  
Fin  
  
***  
  
Author's Note: I want to thank to all who made this story possible, helped and supported it and me for the last 14 months (WOWIE ... I am a really slow writer!)  
  
My eternal thanks to Una, Deb and Viv (all three who read and liked this story before it was readable, kicking my butt to continue and betaing)  
  
To Katt, Terri and Chris for their bugging and bouncing. To the Smut Faeries altogether for their support and patience.  
  
To all readers who made my day and gave me courage with their reviews and the wonderful fellow LOTR writers who kept the muse alive.  
  
Okay, that was my Oscar acceptance speech. Well it was my first novel- length finished fic ever, so bear with me.  
  
The sequel to this story can be found here in this archive under storyid = 1769169  
  
I hope you enjoy it and please let me know your comments! 


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